This Feeling
by skygirl55
Summary: You're the one that I want, if that's really so wrong, then they don't know what this feeling is like. Caskett Very AU Story Collection.
1. Story A - 1

**This Feeling**

 **You're the one that I want, if that's really so wrong, then they don't know what this feeling is like. Caskett Very AU**

Lyrics from The Chainsmokers

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 **A/N** : This is the beginning of a small series that will have different glimpses into the same AU. Think Timer-ish if you've read that story from me.

Also, this story is borderline crack!fic, so you're going to have to trust me at first... I was inspired to write this after watching Victor/Victoria...

which means a small portion of you know what's coming, and the rest are probably very confused :)

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 **Story A - Part 1 of 3**

Detective Richard Castle stepped out onto the sidewalk, lifted his chin to the sky, and took in a slow, deep breath. He was having such a very good day that he hoped luck would be on his side just a little bit longer. Ten minutes longer, specifically. After that, the rain clouds could come in and soak the sidewalks of New York and he wouldn't care. He just needed ten more minutes.

With a cloudless sky overhead and temperatures in the mid-eighties, the day could not have been more idyllic. He didn't have to work, so he slept in late, made himself a hearty brunch around eleven, and then headed off to meet his three colleagues and friends for a mid-afternoon Mets game. They drank beers, ate hotdogs and fries, and teased each other as they did. He loved having three coworkers he trusted—particularly in his line of work—but their bond was made all the better by the fact that they were genuine friends.

Though the Mets had a shaky beginning, they came from behind during a thrilling eighth inning and ended up winning the game nine-to-seven. After high-fives, back-slaps, and some good-natured ribbing, the quartet had made their way out of the ballpark to conclude their afternoon together. Since Ryan and Esposito had evening plans, they said their goodbyes quickly and hurried into the crowded subway tunnel. Beckett hung back with him, though, giving Castle one small sign that he was going to get those extra few minutes of luck.

As they casually made their way through the throngs of patrons, Castle felt his heart begin to thrum beneath his ribcage. God, why did it feel like he was back in middle school trying to ask Melanie Dawson out on a date for the first time? Because, he reminded himself, that, in a round-about sort of way was exactly what was happening. True, he wasn't _technically_ asking Beckett out on a date, but what he was asking would hopefully lead to a date. Or something like a date. Or, hell, maybe it would blow up in his face, but god he had to try. He _had_ to try; that was the conclusion he had come to over the prior few months of thought, because if he didn't try he would always wonder _what if_.

A little more than a year had passed since Castle was first introduced to the newly promoted Detective James Beckett, who had just been transferred to his precinct, the twelfth. Several years his senior, Castle had never heard of the green detective, but welcomed him with just as friendly a demeanor as he had with any other new colleagues. At that time, Beckett was assigned to ride with an older detective named Robbins, and they didn't interact too much other than with polite small-talk in the breakroom.

A few months after that, Castle's partner, a gritty, world-weary detective named Scruggs, who had taught him most of what he knew, took a bullet to the shoulder during an arrest gone sideways. The wound wasn't life-threatening, but it was career-ending for the elder man. With Robbins nearing retirement, Castle partnering with Beckett became the obvious next step.

After their first day riding together Castle was convinced their partnership would be doomed. Beckett was jus so…quiet and boring. Sure he was smart as hell and seemed to have commendable personal skills when interacting with victims' families, but in the car? Beckett may as well been a human-sized copy of the NYPD instruction manual.

As someone with a generally positive attitude, Castle decided to stick it out for a month and see how it went. Fortunately, it did get slightly better, but only enough to not make him actively want to dissolve the partnership. He still very much doubted that partnership would be as enriching as the one he'd had with Scruggs until one November day when their captain wished Beckett a happy birthday. As Beckett had said nothing, Castle first thought it was a strange joke, but when the birthday was confirmed, Castle insisted on taking him out for a drink after their shift. After some arm-twisting, Beckett agreed and that was the precise moment things began to shift for Castle.

Seated across from Beckett at a two-seater table, Castle observed the younger man's hazel eyes and pink-hued lips with no small amount of curiosity. There was something amiss about them, but he could not quite put his finger on it. When their beers were served, he asked Beckett's age, and Beckett informed him he was turning twenty-seven. Thought logically he knew anyone who had graduated the police academy could not have been much younger, the age still floored him, as Beckett barely looked like a boy out of high school.

Though some coercion and maybe a bit more teasing than he should have used, Beckett confessed that he was born premature and had a medical condition that made him appear very youthful and small. Naturally, Castle asked if that meant he couldn't age at all, to which Beckett laughed and assured him that was not the case; he just looked young.

That night, they shared several beers and talked about a variety of topics, including why they'd joined the police force. Castle didn't hesitate to tell him about how he was raised by a single mother, who worked as an actress when she could get work, and part-time at dozens of other jobs to make ends meet due to the, in his opinion, unfair way women were effectively prohibited from higher-paying, higher-valued jobs due to societal pressures for them to remain homemakers. As such, he'd needed to get a very good job at a very young age, and since he did not feel the military would be the right fit, he'd chosen the police force.

Though he'd listened and interacted well during Castle's story, when it was his turn, Beckett grew quiet for a long enough period of time that Castle thought he might not share at all. Then, with a voice so soft Castle could barely hear over the hum of the bar, Beckett confessed, "I wanted to be a detective ever since my mother was murdered and the case was never solved." With this news, Castle's investigative side immediately took ahold of him and he peppered the younger man with questions until he realized Beckett did not seem in a mood to answer any, which was fair; he did not intend to make the man discuss something so unpleasant on his birthday. Instead, he thanked Beckett for sharing, and for the very first time, Beckett smiled at him.

From that moment on, their relationship evolved steadily. Their work relationship became a well-honed partnership and they quickly rose to have the best case-closure rate in half the NYPD thanks to their good instincts and the way they'd learned to play off each other's strengths. At the same time, they became genuine friends. Despite the fact that most days Castle still felt Beckett was holding something back, his jokes helped the younger man relax, smile, and enjoy himself despite the horrors of their jobs.

Their friendship was nothing more than that until five months earlier when they went to interview a suspected triple-murderer and ended up walking right into a trap. They'd been backed into a literal corner with bullets flying from every direction. Despite his tendency to dramatize things, Castle genuinely believed they barely made it out with their lives. Later, after they'd written their reports, they'd said their goodbyes, intent on going home for the night. Castle was halfway down the block when he realized he'd forgotten his phone on his desk, so he went back. Too impatient for the elevator that seemed trapped on the second floor, Castle decided to leave via the stairwell, and nearly tripped over Beckett, who was crying in the shadows of the second-floor landing.

Surprised that the normally stoic Beckett was breaking down, he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder saying, "It's okay Beckett; we're fine." A moment later, much to his surprise, Beckett turned and began to cry against his shoulder. Castle pulled him in for a proper hug, but a moment later found himself stunned again by the way Beckett folded his body against his. It wasn't so much the act itself (though it was admittedly unexpected) but the way it felt. The strange puzzle-piece-like way their bodies melded together—and, perhaps more so, the way that the hug didn't feel as alarming as he thought it would.

After walking Beckett to the subway, Castle walked home himself, wondering what the interaction meant—or if it meant anything at all. By the time he arrived at his apartment, he'd convinced himself that anything he felt was simply the manifestation of their near-death experience and the stress surrounding it. And that's what he tried to focus on until four days later when he made Beckett laugh so hard that he snorted, and then reached out to hold on to Castle's arm for stability—a move that strangely had Castle's heart fluttering beneath his chest as he gazed down at the slender fingers curled around his forearm.

In the immediate aftermath of that event, Castle truly believed he was losing his mind. He didn't have _feelings_ for Beckett; that was absurd! Beckett was a man and he had only ever dated women. In fact, he loved women. The curve of their bodies, the softness of their skin, and the swell of their breasts. He was a _huge_ fan of women. But yet, from that point on every time he was out on a date with a woman and she smiled or laughed, he found himself comparing that woman's smile to Beckett's, which typically had the date ending very quickly. Shortly thereafter he forced himself to date a very attractive woman for several months, but his heart simply wasn't in it.

Ever the detective, Castle then decided he needed to find out that exact thing about Beckett that was different about him—the thing Castle could never put his finger on. After several weeks of what could easily have been described as slightly inappropriate levels of observation, he decided on one potential answer: Beckett might not have been a man. Well, all man. Perhaps, he was both.

Thinking that being part male and part female might have been Beckett's "genetic condition," Castle began to research such people and found himself overwhelmed by the volume of information, and the variety of different conditions that could be considered "intersex." Considering Beckett's obviously feminine features (his hands and most of his face), his lack of body hair, and his slight stature, Castle believed it was entirely possible that he fit such a diagnosis. Were that the case, Castle could also understand why he had chosen to be male as it provided distinct societal advantages. Yet at the same time, if Beckett did have some feminine aspects to him, it also explained Castle's attraction. Or, at least, Castle thought it did.

After giving himself a headache for going around and around over what might have been, Castle decided to forget all his research and just go with his gut. After all, that's what he always did on cases, and his gut tended to be right. If his gut could solve a homicide, then he needed to listen to that same gut when it came to matters of the heart, and his gut told him that his connection with Beckett expanded beyond friendship—so that's what he did; he tested the waters.

Castle invited Beckett to dinner, out for beers to watch at game, and to movies. Much to his pleasant surprise, Beckett almost never turned him down. For the prior month, they'd grown closer than ever and Castle knew his feelings had never been stronger, which was why he needed to take that leap of faith and find out if there would ever be more to their story.

"Hey, so, um, real quick before we go." Castle stopped walking despite the groups of people moving around him, and Beckett gave him a curious look. Laughing slightly in the hopes of diffusing the tension in his gut, Castle brushed his fingers through the hair at the back of his head and said, "It's stupid really but…well, a few months back when Jacinda and I were together, I booked this long weekend at the beach on a whim. Then we broke up and I thought I'd be dating someone else so it wouldn't be a problem but…well, here we are. It's next weekend and I can't get the money back. I don't want it to go to waste, so I'm going and I thought maybe…did you want to come, hang out, and have, like, a guys' weekend or something?"

"A guys' weekend?" he echoed with a curious tone.

"Yeah, we'll get a case of beer, play some poker. Maybe go fishing for a morning. Or if none of that interests you, you can come and read by the pool—this condo has a pool, in case I didn't mention that."

"Oh—you're inviting Ryan and Espo, too?

"Ah, no." He slid his hands down into the pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels. "I wasn't going to. There's only one bedroom plus a small couch so…"

"Oh."

He couldn't read Beckett's expression, but fearing he made him feel uncomfortable he said quickly, "Don't feel like you have to say yes…"

"No, no, it…I haven't been on a vacation in a while." He smiled gently and gave a nod. "Actually, reading by the pool sounds…sounds like a nice break."

His heart rate speeding as he could hardly believe his Hail Mary of a plan was working out, he said, "Yeah? So you'll come?"

Beckett shrugged. "Sure; why not."

"Great! It's gonna be fun, Beckett." He continued leading the way towards the stairs going to the subway and nudged Beckett with his elbow as they walked. "Listen, ah, like I said I can't get the money back, so that's all covered. Why don't you get the beer and the food, and we'll call it even?"

He nodded. "Sounds good to me."

"Great, ah…well I'll forward you the details then and we'll leave Friday morning?"

"Friday morning it is."

"Great." Castle smiled as they stepped on the subway car and then pressed his lips tightly together as the ramifications of his invitation settled in. Yes, luck had been on his side that day, but hopefully there was a little bit of that left over for the following weekend.

* * *

"You know," Castle said as he delivered the last of their empty dishes to the counter beside the sink, "you're a very good cook."

Beckett gave him a side-eye from where he was washing the dishes. "Don't sound so shocked."

"I didn't mean it in that way—truly. I just…I know you talk about take out a lot."

He smiled guiltily. "That's more me being lazy than anything else. Cooking has never been my favorite thing, but it's nice now and then, especially if I'm making food to share with someone else."

"Mmm good to know." Castle hummed, took another sip from his beer, and then watched as Beckett put a clean plate into the dish rack and then reach for another. He watched the slender, soap-covered fingers curl around the handle of the skillet and felt a flash of heat at the notion of those slender fingers curling around something else. It may have only been twelve hours since the start of their vacation, but he was more convinced than ever that something was happening—something extraordinary.

Early that morning he picked Beckett up in the car he shared with his mother and they drove two hours north-east to the beach condo he'd rented. They couldn't check in until noon, so they grabbed an early lunch, explored a few shops on Main Street and then sat by the condo's pool until the keys were delivered. The condo itself seemed smaller than advertised, but it was clean and had a good proximity to the beach, which was all that mattered.

Beckett suggested they go shopping for the essentials and then, once they'd returned and put away their groceries, they changed and headed out to the sand. While he stripped down to swimming shorts, Beckett wore a yellow polo with orange, yellow, and red plaid shorts. Castle joked about Beckett getting too hot, but he ignored the jest and suggested playing frisbee down by the water. Neither of them were all that skilled at the game, but that didn't matter; Castle was too busy observing Beckett's slender legs and delicate feet, which he tried to hide with boat shoes until an unexpected wave soaked them and he was forced to take them off so they would hopefully dry in the sun.

By dinnertime, they had both had several beers and Castle decided that whatever walls Beckett had up around him during their day-to-day lives had sufficiently fallen down, especially after the playful way he shoved him down when they were chasing after the frisbee, which had caught a gust of wind and tried to escape. They laughed and joked and for the first time that afternoon Castle looked at Beckett and saw not a man or woman or someone in between, but another human he cared deeply for and that was when he knew that no matter what Beckett's "medical condition" was they could figure out a way to be together; he was sure of it.

Standing beside the sink, Castle watched Beckett finish washing the pot and then reach for the small pile of their used flatware. He washed a spoon, then brushed his index finger against the underside of his chin as though scratching an itch, and then reached out for a fork to wash next. Glancing over at Castle, he said, "You just gonna watch me?"

"No. I'm going to finish this beer, then I'm going to dry what you've washed and put them away."

"Ah…"

After tipping the bottle up and draining its contents into his mouth, Castle tossed the bottle into the kitchen recycle bin, and returned to the sink with the observation, "It's been very nice to see you relax this afternoon."

Beckett glanced at him. "What?"

"You. Relaxed. You're always so…uptight," Castle said with a cringe. When Beckett glanced over at him again he continued with, "You know you're uptight, right?"

"I don't know that I'd say uptight."

"Then how would you describe it?"

He shrugged and dropped the now-clean utensils into the appropriate section of the dishrack. "I…I just am who I am, Castle"

He hummed as he pulled a clean towel of out the drawer. "That's definitely true, but I like this looser you. It's like…it's like right now you don't have to think about everything you say and do before you do it. Would that be a correct assessment?"

Beckett didn't meet his eye, but instead pressed his lips together tightly for a moment before relenting, "Maybe."

Castle smiled inwardly as the conversation was moving in the exact direction he hoped it would. "And why might that be?"

"I…It just is."

Hearing the clipped tone, Castle cursed beneath his breath and quickly backtracked. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to upset you-"

"You're not," he said, though his tone said otherwise.

Attempting damage control, Castle dropped the clean towel onto the counter and stepped towards Beckett saying, "Here—let me finish up."

"I'm nearly done; it's fine."

Beckett reached for one of the last pots quickly and in doing so sent a cluster of soap bubbles into the air. They floated upwards and landed on his cheek. Castle wasn't sure Beckett realized this; if he did, he didn't react, so Castle decided to use the bubbles as a way to break the physical barrier between them. He reached out with his index finger and scooped up the bubbles with his nail while saying, "Looks like you missed a spot."

Eyes wide, Beckett looked at him. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing…just helping," he said as he moved the bubbles from Beckett's cheek to the end of his nose. Beckett's retaliation was almost immediate when he flicked soap in Castle's direction. The bubbles didn't travel very far and descended to the counter before they touched him, but that was the only act needed for the war to begin.

Without a second though, Castle reached into the sink, grabbed a handful of bubbles and flung them towards Beckett's face. He squealed, "Hey!" and jumped back, leaving the pot to clatter into the sink. Castle laughed and reached for more soap, but Beckett moved quickly and splashed some water flowing out of the faucet tap into his direction.

Castle gasped when the water hit his arm and declared, "Oh, now you've done it!"

"Wha—Castle!" Beckett yelped when more water flung in his direction.

They continued their soap and water battle for several minutes, at one point chasing each other around the small kitchen table. In the end, Castle caught up to Beckett and grabbed him from behind with his left arm while he cupped a handful of soapy water in his right. He had every intent to dump that water on Beckett's head while he struggled in Castle's embrace saying, "No! Don't! Don't!"

Heeding to the request, Castle dumped his hand out onto the floor, but kept his left arm around Beckett. He spun around in the arm-lock and gazed up at Castle with a mixture of amusement and concern. Castle took a half step forward which pinned Beckett between him and the counter. This was not exactly his intention, merely a result of their playful fight, but the action brought them closer together than ever.

In the tight space, Castle lowered his right hand to Beckett's side, feeling the curvature of his ribs. Beckett breathed in sharply and then croaked, "Wha…" but the word was lost on his tongue. Castle gazed down at Beckett and decided that despite the fact that his face was half splotchy and red from soap suds and exertion, he had never seen anyone look more beautiful. Without taking one more moment to weigh the consequences, Castle dipped his chin and pressed his lips against Beckett's. He immediately braced himself, waiting for a bunch to his ribs or solar plexus, but it never came. At the same time, he could not conclusively say that Beckett was kissing him back, so he lifted his head and gazed down to see Beckett wide-eyed and looking like a forest creature caught suddenly in headlights.

Castle stared at Beckett for fifteen more seconds, both of them barely breathing, before he realized that he still had Beckett half pinned against the counter, so he asked softly, "If I let you go, are you going to punch me?" It took fifteen seconds, but then Beckett silently shook his head, and he agreed with, "Okay."

He stepped back and dropped his arms to his sides, releasing Beckett completely; he didn't move an inch. Knowing that there would never be a better moment for him to explain the things swirling around inside his mind at that moment, he took a deep breath and prepared for what would likely be one of the most difficult conversations of his life.

"I, ah…I have some things to say and I'd like you to listen." Again, Beckett didn't move or blink, so he felt it safe to continued. Skimming his hands down over his face, Castle began to speak. "The thing of it is…I…I've been driving myself crazy for months—almost half a year—because I can't stop thinking about you. It…it started the night after that firefight—when I found you crying in the stairwell. At least, I think that's when it started. Maybe it was before, I don't know, but that night was the first I realized that I have feelings for you or…or I feel… I don't know. That's…that's really the gist of it: I don't know."

Castle threw his hands up and began to pace the kitchen. "I can't stop. I tried—I swear to god I tried—but I can't. I threw myself into meaningless relationships trying to…to…I don't know, feel what I thought I should, because when you're thirty years old and you've felt a certain way for those thirty years, feeling something different is… It's scary. It feels…like maybe you're not you—and I don't mean that in a bad way," he added quickly, fearful to offend. "I'm not homophobic; I'm not, but this was…unexpected. I thought I was going crazy," he added with a slight laugh; Beckett appeared just as frozen as ever, so he continued.

"I tried to tell myself that we were just friends—partners—but I knew that wasn't it. Deep down I knew, but it took me a while to…to…to get here." Castle stopped pacing and stood directly in front of Beckett as he made his next confession. "I lied before. I didn't rent this condo for Jacinda and I or anyone else. I rented it for us, so we could get away from our lives, from what was expected of us, and to see if maybe…" He huffed out a breath and shook his head. "Now that I say it out loud, it sounds a bit manipulative—like I tricked or coerced you into coming here. I promise you that's not the case, but if you want to leave, you can go; I won't stop you."

He was silent for thirty seconds, but when he still didn't seem to be breathing or blinking, his brow wrinkled with concern. "Beckett? Are you…are you okay? Are you in shock? Can you give me some sort of a sign here…?"

Beckett didn't speak, but he did stand more upright instead of leaning back against the counter. He dipped his chin, skimmed his hand over his mouth, and when he looked backup, a single tear fell from his eye.

Castle felt his heart clench. "Are you—can you say something? You…you look a little shocked and scared. You're not afraid of me, are you?" That was the last thing he wanted; to scare someone he cared so deeply for. Admittedly, choosing a kiss over talking probably was not the best course of action, but it had happened and he couldn't take it back.

After several more seconds Beckett finally rasped out, "I…I'm afraid of this."

Feeling a bit more hopeful, he stepped forward and confessed, "I know I was too, but you feel it too, don't you?" He reached out his fingers to brush under Beckett's jaw. He could feel his accelerated heartrate and the tightness in his throat, which concerned Castle; yet the fact that Beckett wasn't running away made him press on. He used his hand beneath Beckett's jaw to draw them in closer and when he felt Beckett tilt forward ever so slightly, he closed this distance between them and crushed their lips together once more.

He groaned when he felt Beckett's hands land on his side and curl into the fabric of his shirt. Their lips parted and they kissed again and again until Castle thought his heart might just explode. "God Beckett," he groaned out as he tilted his head to the other side and cradled the back of Beckett's head with his right hand. He pulled him in and when their tongues brushed lightly together, he heard Beckett mew out a soft noise and he knew he'd never wanted anyone more.

Feeling bolder as they kissed, Castle let his hands drift down over Beckett's spine and all the way down to his ass. Only when he tried to squeeze did Beckett's hands press against his stomach and he heard his name in a warning tone.

"Rick."

"What?" he replied, a little breathless. "You want to stop?"

Beckett shook his head gently. "It's not that. It's…I don't…"

"Hey it's okay." Castle cupped Beckett's jaw when he saw emotion welling in his eyes. "It's okay if you haven't done this before. I haven't—clearly. We can just…we can go slow and—and we'll figure it out, right? We'll just…we'll go into the bedroom and—or—or we don't have to," he added quickly when Beckett's eyes shut and tears began to fall.

"No," he rasped out and Castle felt as though his heart was being shredded from the pain he heard.

"Hey, it's okay—don't cry. It's going to be okay. Honestly, if you're not ready or you-"

"No, I can't…I can't…"

"Beckett…" he sighed and then quickly looked around the counter for something to use as a tissue. When all he saw was a roll of paper towels, he quickly ripped two sheets off and pressed them into Beckett's hands; he used them to cover his face. Castle stroked his hands down Beckett's arms reassuringly and then continued, "If…if this is because of your medical condition you have to know: I don't care about that; not at all. Whatever it is, we'll figure something out because we always figure stuff out, right?"

His attempt at humor fell flat as Beckett continued to cry into the paper towels. After two minutes he calmed himself to say, "No, no—you don't understand."

Castle gazed at him imploringly "Then help me understand. You can talk to me. We're partners, Beckett."

"I know but you…you don't…"

"What? Just say it. Please," he begged her. He knew they could conquer any obstacle together, but only if he let him in.

"I can't. "

Castle felt Beckett's entire body shiver and could resist comforting him no longer. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pulling him in, and Beckett fell against him, mimicking the way they'd first held each other months before. Castle held him tightly, rocked their bodies gently, and repeated softly, "It's okay, Beckett; it's okay. We'll figure it out; it's okay." All Castle could think was that he was terrified for Castle to discover the extent of his medical condition and then be horrified or find him grotesque, but that could not have been further from reality.

After crying for the better part of five minutes, Beckett's sobs quieted, but he remained with his body pressed up against his. Then, slowly, he lifted his head and pressed his lips against the underside of Castle's jaw. That time, it was Castle's body that shivered. He tilted his chin down to meet Beckett's gaze, where he saw pain and sorrow, but behind that, the smallest shred of hope. Holding onto that shred, he bumped his nose up against Beckett's in a tender gesture. Beckett reciprocated and then slowly, cautiously, pressed his lips over Castle's once more.

"Oh Beckett…Beckett…" Castle breathed between kisses. "It'll be… okay…I promise…"

Unable to stop himself, Castle moved his kisses down over Beckett's throat down towards his collar bone. His hands roamed Beckett's sides and without even thinking he ducked them beneath the hem of Beckett's polo shirt. They had barely begun to travel northward when he gasped out, "No!"

Castle lifted his head and glanced up to see his deer-in-headlights expression had returned. He gave a reassuring smile and promised, "I told you it's okay. Whatever it is…" His hands traveled from Beckett's sides, over his hip bones to rest just above the zipper on his shorts. "…it's okay."

His eyes still locked with Beckett's and nervous perspiration forming at the back of his neck, Castle pressed his hand more firmly against the front of his shorts. Beckett's jaw opened slightly, but no sound came out. Castle had, in all honestly, half expected to feel some sign of Beckett's arousal, but was not entirely shocked when he felt nothing. It only led him to conclude that whatever was beneath Beckett's shorts was too small to feel or one of the very untraditional things he had read about on the internet.

Castle leaned in, pressed a kiss against the side of Beckett's open mouth, and then slowly began to undo the fastenings of his shorts. He moved at a slow enough pace that he was sure if Beckett wanted to stop him, he could have, but he didn't. He let Castle loosen his shorts and tug them until they fell to the floor. Only then did Castle break their eye contact and gaze down to see a pair of white boxer-briefs that should have left very little to the imagination, only that's precisely what he saw: very little. There was no bulge or bump whatsoever. If anything, they were a little baggy in the front.

Lifting his gaze, he saw that Beckett's eyes were shut and once again tears were falling. He brushed one of them away with his left hand and he rasped out, "I'm sorry."

"No, no, don't—don't be sorry for who you are." He sighed out and dropped his forehead against Beckett's. He held him close for a moment before pulling back and saying, "Just talk to me okay? Your medical condition. Is it that you're intersex? Both male and female?"

Beckett's eyes popped open and her brow wrinkled. "What?"

He gave a guilty little shrug. "Sorry, I was trying to figure it out and did some research. There are lots of different types of that so if you just-"

"No."

He blinked, not understanding. "No…what? No, you don't walk to talk about it?"

"No, I…I'm not that. I'm not…both."

"Not…" his brow wrinkled for a moment and he looked down at her body and then back up to his face as a most unexpected resolution popped into his mind. "You're…you're a woman."

Her response was nearly inaudible. "Ye-yes."

A gleeful laugh escaped his lips and Castle felt tears pricking his own eyes. Jesus—a woman; Beckett wasn't a he but a she and that was a very unexpected—but certainly not unwelcome—solution to his confusion. "You're really a woman? You were born a woman?"

Beckett nodded and then sniffled out, "I'm so sorry."

"Why?"

"Because…you're probably really mad at me."

Castle actually let out a full laugh, as mad was not even close to what he was feeling at that moment. "How could I be mad? This is the best thing I've ever heard in my entire life!" With that, he lunged forward, locked his arms around her body and twirled her towards the center of the room in an overzealous hug.

"Castle!" She half-laughed, half-gasped.

He set her down, pulled back, and saw that despite the tears on her cheeks, she was smiling—smiling at him. _She_ was smiling at him, which brought him back to his original plan for the evening: taking Beckett to the bedroom and not leaving until morning.

Without waiting another moment, he scooped her up by the hips and began carrying her across the condo. She locked her legs and arms around him and said nothing until they reached the bedroom when he sat her down on the edge of the mattress after she said his name with notable uncertainty.

He crouched down to be eye-level with her, smiled, and asked, "What's your name? Your real name?"

"Kate."

"Kate," he echoed as a smile bloomed on his lips. He loved how it sounded, and how her eyes lit up when he said it. "Well, Kate Beckett, it's nice to meet you, but there's one thing that you should know."

"What?"

Castle placed his hands on the mattress at either side of her hips, arched his body over hers and said, "I'm in love with you."

She shut her eyes for a moment, then looked up at him and sighed, "I love you, too."

Feeling happier than he ever had in his life, Castle slid onto the mattress beside her and pulled her in for a kiss. As soon as they were laying side by side, Castle's hands began to roam her body, once again sneaking up under her shirt, only that time she didn't stop him. His hands skimmed her flesh until he came in contact with a very solid object. He broke their kiss, perplexed for a moment, before he considered the location and asked, "What kind of bra is that?"

She laughed and said, "It's not a bra…not exactly." With that, she pulled off her shirt and revealed a layered bandage of sorts reaching from just beneath her arms all the way down to her mid-chest.

He thought about her male masquerade for a moment and realized she needed this to hide her breasts, but to him it seemed unbelievably uncomfortable, not to mention perplexing. "I…I have no idea how to get that off you."

Again, she laughed and nudged him away so she could stand and work at the bandage-like object. As layer and layer of fabric began to appear, Castle commented, "You're like a mummy."

"Feels that way somedays." It took her nearly a full minute to unwind, and when she was done, indentations could be seen in her flesh where the bandage was particularly tight, but her breasts had bounced free, leaving no question that she was a woman.

Castle stood from the bed, gathered her breasts in his hands and sighed out, "You're beautiful," before kissing her again.

As he backed towards the mattress, she tried to pull his t-shirt up and over his head, but accidentally ended up punching him in the nose. He yelped, and she gasped out an apology. "I'm so sorry. I—I guess I might be rusty at this."

Still rubbing his sore nose, Castle considered her statement and then asked, "How long has it been?"

She dipped her gaze and confessed, "About five years."

"That's how long you've been living as a man?" he asked; she confirmed with a nod. "Then," he said, snagging her hip with his hand and pulling her back towards the bed, "I guess we have a lot of time to make up for."

* * *

An hour later, lying in bed beside the woman he now knew as Kate Beckett, Castle could not keep himself from smiling; it would have been impossible. He had never felt happier in his whole life. Not only because of what he had just experienced, but because it had not just been sex, but true intimacy. She was, for the first time since he'd met her, fully open, as was he. They'd smiled, laughed, and even teared up a little bit; it had been extraordinary.

When he felt her shift beside him, Castle turned his head towards her, met her eye, and smiled. Rolling onto his side, he tucked his hands beneath his cheek and said, "I have about one million questions."

She gazed at him cautiously and then recommended, "Why don't you start with the top few."

Considering the volume of questions, Castle wasn't sure how to rank them on a scale of importance, but after several moments' thought, one popped into his mind. "Yeah, okay, here's one: how the hell did you use a urinal?" he asked, knowing that one of the times they'd been in the locker room together had really thrown off his intersex theories.

"I have a device."

He scrunched his nose. "A device? Like a fake dick?"

She laughed loudly. "Kind of. More like a funnel."

"Really?"

She nodded. "I didn't use it all the time—it's really awkward—only occasionally to reinforce the illusion"

He hummed and continued to think about his endless list. "So…why did you become a cop?"

"My mother was murdered," she said matter-of-factly.

"I know; you told me that, but to change your life so dramatically…your gender, your identity…"

She was quiet for a moment before continuing, "My father's an alcoholic—has been ever since my mother's death. I had to take care of us right from the start and that was very…isolating and lonely. I looked at the numbers and working as a secretary just wouldn't have been enough to support us. Besides, I…wanted to be more than that. I wanted to make a difference. I didn't want to leave any more families with questions like I had, if I could."

He smiled at her noble reasoning, then reached out to dust his thumb across the apple of her cheek. Gazing at her then, it was so clear to him that she could never have been a convincing man. Her male haircut aside, her eyes, cheeks, lips, and jaw—everything about her was feminine; and gorgeous. "I can't believe I didn't see who you really were…it's so obvious now."

"Well, I think you did you did—subconsciously I mean. And you thought I was a man and a woman, right?"

"You're the one who explained your lack of beard as a medical condition; I just went off that."

She gazed at him intently for a moment before asking, "We're you really going to have sex with me if I was a man?"

"I…" He hesitated a moment before finding a way to put his feelings into words. "I wanted to make love to the person I loved so…yeah, only I wasn't entirely sure about the logistics." Skimming his hand across her body to reach her hip, he pulled her closer and whispered, "This works out much better," before sealing his lips over hers.

After their kiss, she excused herself to the bathroom, and returned two minutes later. She then picked up her boxer-briefs from the floor and tugged them on before climbing back into bed. Rick watched and considered her actions for a moment. "You know…as strangely sexy as it is to see you wearing those—do you have any of your female wardrobe anymore?"

"A few things, but… I still have to be a man, Rick; I don't want to stop being a detective."

He nodded, unsurprised by her comment. "I understand. We can…still spend nights together, right?"

She gave a gentle shake of her head. "People will figure it out."

"Figure what out?"

"That you're sleeping with a man."

He reached out for her hand and pulled it against his chest. "I don't care about that. I love you. And I want to get to know this you."

"I didn't change that much about myself…"

"But what I said earlier is true—you're so guarded. I understand why now, but I don't want you to be that way with me. I just want to know the real you."

She smiled gently as she lay back down against the pillows once more. "Okay. I can do that."

"Excellent," he agreed. Then after a minute of silence he said, "I just have one more important question. What did you think this weekend was when I invited you?"

She shrugged. "A guys' weekend—like you said."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I wanted to read by the pool and….and spend time with you. It's…" She dipped her gaze and bit down on her bottom lip for a moment before looking back at him a bit nervously. "I don't know if you noticed, but I always try to sit beside you. At the bar. At baseball games…"

"I noticed," he said. In fact, it was one of the main things that made him feel confident in his decision to initiate an intimate relationship between them. He'd caught her looking at him more than once while they were out in public—even sometimes during work. The look was the same one he snuck at her when he didn't think anyone was looking. Plus, she always seemed to jump at the chance to sit beside him or so do something with him. It made him think she might have feelings for him too; turns out that was entirely correct.

"I knew that me as James Beckett couldn't have feelings for you…but I did and…being around you made me happy."

He reached out and stroked his fingers softly against her face. "Would you have ever told me?"

"I thought about it a few times, but I was afraid you'd be angry and then I'd have to quit my job. What we do is important."

"I know, and I agree, but this is important too, right?"

The tears returning to her eyes again, Kate confessed. "I never thought about having this; I never thought I could. When I made the decision to become a man, I did so knowing I'd give up a personal life, but I was okay with that, as long as I made a difference."

"But now we can have both."

"Can we?" she asked, her concern noticeable.

He gave a little shrug. "There's no rulebook for this, but I want to try—we have to try."

"Yeah, we do." she agreed.

Castle snuggled his body against hers, pressed a kiss to her temple, and then settled down to sleep having no idea what the future would hold for them, but knowing full well they would face it together.

* * *

 **A/N** : Sooooo yeah, this did start out as kind of a crack!fic idea, but then it got a little too sad and a little too sweet to be crack material, so now its just weird, but that's ok, right? LOL

There are 2 more parts to "story A". Then there will definitely be a story B with 2-3 parts. There might be a Story C

Um...Happy New Year? :)


	2. Story A - 2

Story A - Part 2 of 3

Laying back in the dentist chair, Richard Castle closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to relax. He hoped the act of the hygienist picking at the plaque on his teeth would distract him from the turmoil inside his gut if for only a little while. If nothing else he supposed it would give him time to think through their latest fight and decide if there was anything he could say or do differently the next time around.

The prior evening like so many evenings before, Castle had been discussing weekend plans with his partner. He made half a dozen suggestions, but she refused them all. Even when he reminder her that all public events would be attended as friends-only, she still refused. His frustration had then bubbled over into a full-blown argument, but more and more he didn't see the point; they always ended the same: with him on the losing side.

Six months had passed since that night in a beach condo when the truth about Beckett's secret female identity had come tumbling out. They had been in a romantic relationship of sorts ever since, though due to the unique nature of Beckett's situation, there had been more frustrating times than not. When they were together, just the two of them in his apartment, everything felt perfect—as it should be. It was all the other moments in the day that caused problems.

Since it was still illegal for a woman to be an NYPD officer Beckett had to maintain the façade that she was a man in all public settings. Castle insisted that he had no problem being romantic with her in public even if she was impersonating a man at that time, but she refuted. It wasn't as much the perception of them being a homosexual couple she had the problem with, but them being a couple at all, as it was strictly against NYPD regulations and she did not wish to dissolve their partnership. He understood that and was completely on board with being platonic in the workplace, but he also did not see why that would prohibit them from holding hands in a dark movie theater. Evidently, she disagreed.

When it came right down to it, Castle could easily admit that he was happier then, being with her only behind closed doors, than being without her, but therein lie some of their problems. He was happy, very happy. Getting to know Kate had been an utter joy. She was kind, warm-hearted, and surprisingly funny once all of her walls came down. He never would have wanted to trade their moments together for any other relationship in the world—particularly since their intimacy made her noticeably looser even when she was in "James Beckett" mode. Being that happy with her made him think about their happiness in the future. The way he felt about her then made him certain they did have a future, but any such attempted discussions led to more arguments.

He understood; he truly did. While they might have been able to pull off a secret marriage with her still working on the force, once they had children, she would have to return to being Kate Beckett forever. For her, that would be a significant sacrifice that he was not blind to. Still, it was a necessary obstacle for them if they wanted to have a family together. While she seemed uncertain on the subject of a having children, Castle had known since a very young age that he could not imagine his life without them.

As if their personal struggles had not been complex enough, as of late, their jobs had become an added source of stress. Several months prior, there had been a shuffle of teams amongst precinct, and the Twelfth acquired two new detectives. One, a young hotshot named Danvers, seemed to take an immediate disliking to Castle and Beckett. The former immediacy brushed it off as Danvers being jealous of their skill and case closure rate, but she had never been convinced.

Though they tried to keep professional in the workplace, when they were alone together it was sometimes difficult for them to draw the line. One such afternoon they were in the breakroom together, teasing each other thoroughly about a topic he no longer remembered. What he did remember was hearing the door swing open the exact moment he had reached out to playfully squeeze her ass. When Castle saw Danvers eyeing them, he tried to brush the joke off and diffuse the situation, but he also felt from that point on Danvers was suspicious of them.

Shortly thereafter, Beckett began receiving derogatory statements and anonymous notes on her desk and in her locker eluding to the fact that she was a homosexual. Given the fact that she could not totally eliminate her femininity, this was not the first time such events had happened, but Castle felt these notes were appallingly aggressive and urged her to report them or file a complaint. She refused, insisting it would be better to ignore it.

Every time another note was delivered they would argue yet find no resolution. The more frequently that happened, combined with their other spats, Castle felt progressively more upset about the state of their relationship. As he exited the dentist that morning, he wondered for the very first time if there was a real possibility of them not having a future together. Whether her insistence that they had to be aggressively secretive or the fact that she did not want children and he did would lead to the demise of their relationship. Just the notion of that made his heart ache, but Castle honestly was not sure in that moment if he saw a way around it.

As he crossed into the next block, Castle pulled his phone out of his pocket meaning to turn the ringer volume up since it had been on silent while he was in the dentist office. Before he even got that far, however, he saw that he had three missed calls from Esposito plus a text message instructing him to call ASAP. Grumbling slightly, Castle pressed the call button next to Espo's contact name; the other detective answered on the first ring.

"Jesus, what is it? I've been at the dentist." Castle snipped, annoyed that the subject of the urgent message had not been better conveyed so he could determine its actual urgency.

"Oh. Well I wanted you to hear it from me: Beckett's been attacked."

Castle stopped walking and his heart began to pound. Certain he'd heard wrong, he asked quietly, "What?"

"He was jumped in the locker room just before shift started."

Castle felt his stomach lurch. "What? Who? How bad?"

"It's… how far away are you?"

"Fuck." Castle cursed, knowing it must have been bad if Esposito wasn't providing more info over the phone. He broke into a run shouting into the phone, "I'm ten minutes out," before hanging up and sprinting down the sidewalk.

* * *

"Where…where's Beckett? Where's Beckett?!" Castle demanded the moment he raced off the elevator, sweat dripping down his forehead after his several-block sprint. Of course, his questions received no answers because he was shouting them at no one in particularly as he ran down the hallway. Once he spotted Ryan and Esposito standing beside the latter's desk, he repeated his shouted questions and added, "It was Danvers right? It was him; it had to be him." That was the only conclusion Castle could come to as he ran and thought; no one else would have ever committed such a heinous act against one of their fellow brothers in blue, no matter how they fundamentally disagreed.

Espo shook his head quickly. "Nobody's copped to it yet. IA's up everyone's asses. And Beckett was taken to the hospital about ten minutes before you called me back."

"God how bad? How bad?"

It was Ryan who answered with a grimace. "We didn't see, but its not great. Not life-threatening, but not great."

"Oh god," he moaned and raked his hands back through his head. He tried to compartmentalize, he tried to enact his cop training and keep a level head, but it was so hard knowing that the person he loved most in the world was injured so severely that hospital treatment was needed.

Ryan's hand landed on his shoulder and he gave it a squeeze as he said, "I'm sorry man."

"Listen, Castle, you should know…" Espo glanced around to see if anyone was in the immediate vicinity. When no one else was, he lowered his voice and continued. "There's…talk, you know? Locker room type stuff. You know when it comes to us—we don't care what you do after hours and we'd never confirm or deny anything but…if we're all being honest here: we _know_."

A mirthless laugh escaped Castle's lips and he muttered, "I really don't think you do," in reference to the fact that Beckett was actually a woman. He was certain they were not aware of that, but as for their relationship status, he was fairly sure they had figured that out. When it came to the other half of the partnership quartet, Castle did not believe a great deal of caution was necessary—a point Kate vehemently disagreed on. As such, she did not permit any physical contact while in their presence, even if it was just the four of them. She did not, however, refute him answering questions about their weekends with "we" responses, which naturally implied they were a couple.

At first, Castle could tell that his friends and colleagues weren't quite sure to make of the relationship, but Castle didn't judge them for that, nor was he offended. Were the tables reversed, he knew he would have reacted similarly. Eventually, though, they seemed to accept it as the norm and no longer gave him strange looks when he told them his weekend plans involved trying out a new recipe with Beckett.

"No, Bro, I don't think _you_ do," Espo said.

When Castle's brow wrinkled, Ryan clarified. "He means: they were out for both of you but…well, Beckett's the easier target."

Castle's jaw tensed and his fists clenched at his sides. "So its Danvers and who else? Who? I'll make them pay for-"

"No, you won't and you won't let IA hear you say that either," Espo said, placing a hand on Castle's chest almost as though he felt the need to physically hold him back. "Just-"

"Castle!"

The group was interrupted by their captain, Montgomery, calling out for Castle from the edge of his office. The summoned detective hurried over to his superior while saying, "Sir, I'm sorry but I need to go check on Beckett, and-"

"You need to come in here first," Montgomery said in a tone that made it clear there was no room for arguing. Castle reluctantly stepped inside the office and stood stiffly in the center of the room. Montgomery sat on the edge of his desk and calmly faced the detective. "I'm gonna be straight with you here Castle, so I want you to be straight with me too. I…I know you and your partner have a very special relationship, and I know you care about him, so if you can I need you help us figure out who did this." With that, Montgomery reached behind him and pulled a crime scene photo from his desk.

Castle audibly gasped when he gazed down at the picture taken of their locker room floor smeared with brilliant red blood; Beckett's blood. "Shit…what… oh god." He groaned as he took a closer look and saw what appeared to be a blood spattered bludgeoning implement at the bottom edge of the photo. "What's that?"

"Soap in a sock."

"Fuck." He cursed beneath his breath at the notion of the cruel, prison-style attack. Soap in a sock would do great damage to the victim, but leave the assailant injury-free unlike punches, even with gloves on.

Putting the photo back on his desk, Montgomery asked, "Had Beckett been getting any threats? Is there anything we need to know?"

Castle took in a few deep breaths both to calm the roiling bile in his stomach and to consider his response carefully. "I…I'm aware of a few anonymous notes. Not threats just…derogatory comments. I encouraged Beckett to report them, but I'm pretty sure he did not. I…I'm sorry can I please go and check on him? Please?"

Montgomery nodded, but before dismissing him warned, "IA will want to speak with you later."

"I know." Castle replied before hurrying out the door.

* * *

Twenty agonizing minutes later Castle arrived at the emergency room Beckett had been sent to. He flashed his badge at the intake desk to find out where his partner was and rushed to her side. Given what he'd seen in the crime scene photo, he thought he was prepared to look at her, but his first glimpse of her face had tears pricking at his eyes and his stomach flipping over in his gut.

"Oh, god…Beckett…" He rasped out, for she was practically unrecognizable. Nearly every inch of her face was bruised and bloodied particularly her left eye both above and below the socket. The eye itself was brilliant purple and completely swollen shut. She was covered with a sheet so he couldn't see any more than neck and her right arm, which also appeared bruised, but not broken.

Sniffling back some tears, he walked over to her right side, not sure if she was conscious or not until his hand landed on her forearm and her right eye popped open with a gasp.

"Hey, it's okay; it's me. It's okay." He told her in a soothing tone.

"They're going to find out—they're going to know that-"

"Shh," he hushed her, placing his hand atop her head and stroking her hair gently so as not to hurt her. He was not sure of the extent of a physical examination done by her doctors, but he could tell she wore a hospital gown, which meant that at the very least someone had discovered her breast bindings. They may have even discovered her breasts if those bindings needed removed, but clearly her overall health was of the highest priority in that moment. "Shh it's okay. Whatever happens it'll be okay."

"It's not okay." She croaked out. "If they find out, I'll go to prison."

He shook his head and said, "I'm not going to let that happen."

"You can't stop it."

He continued to stroke her head gently. "Let's not panic before we need to okay? Just relax and focus on getting better."

A tear dripped from her eye and then she winced. "My face really hurts."

He gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Yeah, I imagine it does, but I'm sure they'll give you painkillers soon. Did you see who did this?"

She shut her eye and her bottom lip began to tremble as she gave a quick nod. Unable to help himself, Castle leaned down and pressed a kiss to her right temple, which he felt was safe due to the fact that that her bed was mostly obscured by a curtain. Even if it hadn't been, he didn't care who in that hospital saw them together; all that mattered was that he made her feel better however he could.

"I thought he was going to kill me," she sniveled out. "I really thought that it was over and I…I didn't…"

"I know, I know," he sighed against her hair, rubbing his hand over her forearm.

"It was Danvers. He came up behind me and hit me with—with something. I was so stunned I sort of fell forward and that's when he pounced on me, hitting me again and again. He called me all these terrible things and then…then he got up and kicked me twice in the crotch, but…but I guess jokes on him." She added with the smallest quirk of her lips.

Despite the distressing information, a breathy laugh escaped Castle's lips and he clicked his tongue at her. "Terrible."

A moment later, they were interrupted by a nurse pulling back the curtain and saying, "Okay Detective, we're going to—who, who are you?"

Castle stood up straight, flashed the badge on his hip and said, "Detective Castle; I'm…I'm the partner."

"Well we're taking the detective up for x-rays now so you'll need to wait here."

He nodded and then smiled down at the woman in the bed. "I'll be here when you get back; I'm sure it won't take very long."

"Okay," she agreed, then just as they were about to wheel her away, she added, "Thank you."

"Always," he called out after her. Then, he went in search of coffee to sip while he waited for her to return.

* * *

Several hours later, Castle continued to sit dutifully by Beckett's bedside while they waited for the doctor to come in and give his final assessment of her facial injuries. She had told him that she caught a glimpse of the x-ray as they were leaving the room and could see what she thought was a fracture on her cheek. Given how horrific her face looked, neither of them were surprised, but she expressed concern that she might need surgery. He didn't know what to say to that, so he merely gave her hand a squeeze.

For the most part, they had been left alone except for the brief awkward incident when she'd sent him to find a nurse so that she could use the bathroom. The nurse returned with a bottle to use for urinating since she was supposed to be laying down. She politely requested a bedpan instead, but the nurse protested until Castle jumped in and loudly insinuated that the woman was not heeding the reasonable request of an injured cop, which had several heads in the ER turning in their direction until the irritated nurse scurried away and returned with a bedpan a few minutes later.

Shortly thereafter Beckett was moved to a room instead of being left in the curtained off area. They soon learned this was because the police detectives from the internal affairs division had arrived and were presumably preparing to interview her on her attack. Castle saw them standing at the intake desk and informed her of what was going on, but before the IA duo arrived, Montgomery popped his head in to check on her condition.

"My face is broken, sir; I'll probably have to stay at least one night," she replied.

Montgomery nodded and said, "Well of course I wish you a speedy recovery, but I must ask quickly before IA arrives—do you two have your stories straight?"

"I…I don't…" Beckett stammered and looked over to Castle, but he shrugged, feeling equally confused.

"Whatever you do on your own time is frankly none of my business, but if IA finds out you're a couple, I can't protect you and your partnership will be dissolved."

Without missing a beat, Beckett responded with, "But, Sir; we're not a couple; we're just partners."

Montgomery gazed between them for a moment and then nodded his head. "Alright then. Castle, you'd better come and wait with me."

"Yes sir." He agreed. After giving Beckett's shoulder a squeeze, he followed Montgomery to the ER waiting from. From there, he could just barely see the room that was Beckett's, but he could not see inside. He tried to sit down, but then got up and watched the IA duo enter the room. He raked his hands back through his hair and paced for several minutes before sitting down. He was only seated a minute before he stood and repeated the process. This happened twice before Montgomery called him out on it.

"Son, you have to relax. Beckett is not in trouble and neither are you."

Castle retook his seat and said in a somewhat confident tone, "I-I know that."

Montgomery looked at him directly and repeated. "She's not in trouble."

"I know, but—" Castle felt his face flush when he realized what Montgomery had said. He stared at the elder man while holding his breath for several seconds, waiting for Montgomery to react, but he never did. He merely continued to stare at Castle calmly. "I…what…"

Montgomery blinked slowly. "You're worried about IA finding out who she really is, but they don't care about her medical records, only who did that to her face."

"Wha—but you—you're—how…"

The captain smiled, clearly amused. "She didn't tell you, did she? I knew her mother."

"Her mother." Castle echoed a bit dumbly. Thankfully, Montgomery explained further.

"Her mother Johanna and I knew each other way back in the day—back when she was a legal secretary at the department. We got on well, so she would tell me about her family, her daughter. Years later, when Beckett showed up in my precinct and looked so much like her mother…well, I put two and two together and we came to an understanding of sorts. I'm the only one that knows her real identity—save you, of course—and I'm pleased to see she heeded my request not to let anyone in on that secret."

"I…" Castle paused to think about what Montgomery had said as it was really quite shocking. The fact that she would be found out by him because of her mother did make sense, but neither of them let on that the other knew—not one bit. It really was impressive. "But…how did you know that I knew?"

Montgomery chuckled. "Well, the thing about being in love is that you often forget you're not the only two people in the world and certain looks and gestures you don't think can be noticed are."

Momentarily annoyed with himself, he muttered, "But I tried to be so careful…"

"You were. It was her. I don't think I saw her smile once up until…oh, six or seven months ago."

Castle felt his ears heat up as he cleared his throat and confessed, "Yeah, ah…that sounds about right."

Montgomery hummed and nodded. "And now that its all out in the open I'd like to say that I'm very impressed with the ruse you've allowed to take place around you."

Castle huffed and pushed himself up and out of his seat again. "But look where it's gotten us? She's—she could have been—"

"You really think the men that did something as heinous as that wouldn't have done something similar if they found out she was a woman?"

Castle couldn't say for certain how they would have reacted, but Montgomery's comment did rejuvenate his initial concerns. "No, but I know what IA will say. She's terrified that they'll find out and send her to prison."

"I understand why and I'm not saying her fears aren't valid, but in my opinion, the odds of that are very small. Like I said, they just want to know who attacked her. Will she tell them?"

Castle nodded and skimmed his hand over his mouth. Suddenly feeling quite exhausted, he flopped back down in his seat and said, "Yeah. Yeah, she will." Then, he propped his elbows up on his thighs and dropped his head so he could hold it between his hands as he sighed out, "This is all just…insane."

He felt Montgomery's hand land on his shoulder. "I know it is, but justice will be served here; I can promise you that."

Castle lifted his head and gave his captain a small smile. "Thank you, sir."

"Of course. And as for the shifts your scheduled for—don't worry about that; I know she needs someone to care for her right now."

He nodded, feeling relief for the first time that day. "Thank you; we both appreciate that."

Montgomery nodded and stood from his chair. "Just remember that when it comes to who she really is: neither of us know at thing." Then, with that, he left Castle alone to wait—and think.

* * *

 **A/N** : Thank you all so much for your reviews and your appreciation of this crazy story :)

I did notice a few people ask about why Beckett cannot be a female cop and while that was implied it was not outright said: no, women cannot be cops in this AU.


	3. Story A - 3

**Story A - Part 3 of 3**

Juggling a bag of groceries and his keys, Castle unlocked his door and called out, "I'm home!" as he walked into the apartment and kicked the door shut behind him. He made his way to the kitchen and quickly stashed the perishable items into the refrigerator before heading to the bedroom to check on his semi-permanent guest but ended up meeting her just at the edge of the doorway.

"Oh, hey, hi—were you napping?"

She nodded and combed down some of her messy hair. "Kind of…I just laid down for a bit after my appointment. Castle nodded and lead the way back to the kitchen to finish with the groceries.

Two weeks had passed since Beckett's attack and she was finally on the mend. Her face was almost back to normal, though her left eye was still bruised and bloodshot. She did not need surgery on the bones in her face, and her doctors said they were healing nicely, she was just in a lot of discomfort. As such, she had not returned to the apartment she shared with her father and had instead stayed with Castle for the duration of her healing. If he had his way, she would never move out again. True, they still had some differences in opinion on their future but after almost losing her Castle was more determined than ever to make things work between them.

"So how was it? What did the eye doctor say?" Castle asked as he put away boxes of cereal and pasta. He'd wanted to go with her to the appointment, but since he'd missed nearly a week of work to care for her, he had not been able to get out of his shift. She had insisted she was fine to go alone, even if the appointment was to check up on some of the vision problems she was having with her damaged left eye.

"Not great news, I'm afraid."

"Really?"

She nodded sadly. "Since I'm still healing, this isn't a guarantee, but the eye doctor warned me that the peripheral vision loss I'm experiencing is likely permanent. I'll also probably need to get glasses in the meantime and then contacts later on once it heals completely."

"Oh Kate…" He sighed out as his heart sank down into the pit of his stomach. "I'm so, so sorry."

She gave a fractured smile. "I know, but this was all my choice, you know? My choice; my consequences."

"Hey." He stepped forward and reached out his hand to cup her jaw. They'd had the conversation twice before, but he still felt the need to remind her. "This isn't your fault. That piece of shit-"

"I know, and he's going to pay for what he did, but still… I need to talk to Montgomery, but I'm pretty sure I won't get cleared for field duty again."

His heart clenching at the thought of losing his partner, Castle refuted her statement with, "We don't know that. You could still-"

"It's okay." She stopped his inevitable protest by holding up her hand and then reaching out to give his shoulder a squeeze. "I'm going to take the out. I've been thinking…harsh as it is, I think this was the push I needed to see what's important."

"And what's that?"

She reached up her hand to cup his jaw as she said confidently. "You. Us. When I was laying there on that tile floor sure I was going to die I thought about you and how happy you make me and how stupid it was for me to not take our future seriously."

"Not stupid. It's a major life change."

"But I know now it's what I want. Yes, I wish I could have it all—you, a family, and my job, but that's not realistic. Now that my job is…won't be possible, I can still have you and a family and that's…" She looked heavenward for a moment before sighing out, "more than I ever dreamed of."

His heart hammering beneath his ribs, he slid his arms around her waist, pulled her in and asked, "Are you sure? Are you sure that's really what you want?"

She nodded. "I'm sure that I love you. I'm sure that even though I never imagined a life like this it's…" She let out a gentle laugh. "Kind of amazing."

He grinned. "Well I can't argue with that." He dipped his chin, kissed her and said, "I just want you to be happy, Kate."

She leaned her forehead against his and sighed out, "I am; I really am."

* * *

"Hey guys—thanks so much for coming." Richard Castle opened his apartment door to usher in his partners, Ryan and Esposito. He'd invited the duo over for dinner so that they could catch up with their old partner, Beckett, who they hadn't seen for several months, ever since the day she came to pack up her desk at the Twelfth. That evening would also serve as a reveal of sorts, but of course the two guests were not aware of that prior to their arrival.

"Well, we've been looking forward to seeing Beckett," Ryan said, handing his coat over to the host.

"Plus you're providing free food and booze," Espo added playfully, also tossing his coat in Castle's direction.

"Great, well come on in. Beckett! Ryan and Epso are here." He called out to his companion, who was waiting in the bedroom as part of their ruse.

"Great, dinner's just about ready." A moment later, she stepped out of the bedroom dressed in a tea-length floral dress and heals, wearing makeup, with her hair curled as much as it could be in it's still-short state. Immediately, both detective's jaws hit the floor and Castle had to fight to keep a straight face.

Silence filled the room for the better part of a minute before Esposito frantically looked between Castle and Beckett before squeaking out, "Beckett…you became a woman?"

"I…" Ryan began with a rasp. "I'm not so sure he became one…"

"He's wearing a dress!" Espo proclaimed while gesturing towards the woman with the amused expression on his face.

"I mean…" Ryan looked at Beckett, then Castle, and finally back to Espo. "He—he may have always been one."

Castle was just about to congratulate his friend on his observation skills when Espo blasted in his direction. "Wha…did you know about this?!"

Unable to resist that prime joking opportunity, he quipped, "Well the dresses kind of tipped me off…so did the breasts."

"Castle," his girlfriend warned, but he merely smiled.

Meanwhile, Espo appeared to be melting down. He rubbed his temples and collapsed in one of the dining chairs while croaking, "What is happening?"

Beckett stepped forward and addressed her former partners. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please just let me explain. I… my name is Kate Beckett and, yes I've always been a woman." She said with a slight smile towards Ryan. "I wanted to make a life for myself; I wanted to be a police officer, so I changed my identity and lived life as a man. I'm sorry that it meant lying to you—to everyone. I understand if you're extremely mad, you have every right to be, but I—we—wanted you to know the truth." With that, Castle walked over and slipped his arm around her shoulders.

"This is why you left the force?" Ryan asked, gesturing between the two of them.

"Yes and no. My eye injury is real. I just used that as an opportunity to transition back, so to speak."

"So you've really been a couple all this time?"

"No, no, only for about…nine months," Castle replied.

"Wow," Ryan said with a slight laugh, taking the seat next to his partner. "This is kind of insane."

"You really didn't know?" Kate asked them

"Not at all…" Espo said a bit distantly. Looking up at her he added, "I mean…I knew you were a bit feminine I just thought you were gay. And you!" he turned to Castle to continue. "This makes a lot more sense."

Castle laughed as he had certainly received far more strange looks from Espo than Ryan. "Well, I'm also sorry for deceiving you, but I'm sure you can understand our reasoning since Beckett's actions were illegal."

"Oh yeah—how did you do all this?" Ryan asked, genuinely curious.

She gave him a small smile. "It…it actually wasn't that hard. The year before I was born, my parents had a stillborn baby—a son they named James Beckett."

"Oh…wow. So…so are you living as Kate now?"

"Yes." She smiled. "Kate never really went away, just on temporary hiatus."

"I have a question," Esposito began. Turning to Castle he asked, "How in the hell are you going to explain your girlfriend to everyone at work."

"Well clearly I'm not. We still need to keep her secret from that life for a while, but if something comes up…we'll cross that bridge when we get there." Truly, they had not thought that far ahead; after everything that happened, they were content to take things day-by-day.

"Well." Ryan smiled at both of them in turn and gave an approving nod. "I think it's great; I'm glad you're both happy."

Castle rubbed his companion's shoulder and said, "We really are."

"Yeah," she smiled, "we definitely are."

* * *

 **A/N:** once again thank you all so much for reading and reviewing

I'm going to finish out my other multi chap, then i'll circle back to Story B of this little weirdo.

Thanks!


	4. Story B - 1

**Story B, Part 1 of** **2**

 **A/N** : This story takes place in the same "universe" as the Story A, but it is 100% independent of the prior chapters

* * *

Detective Richard Castle strolled confidently across the homicide floor of the NYPD's twelfth precinct, smiling and nodding politely to his colleagues as he went. He sipped gingerly on his still-steaming mug of coffee and hummed when the robust, slightly burnt taste hit his tongue. Nothing like a cup of the NYPD-provided extra strong java to kick off yet another search for a killer.

When Castle sat back down at his desk, he placed his coffee to one side so that he could organize his notes and their case files in front of him. Barely a few hours had passed since he and his partner, Beckett, received a call about a dead body in a mid-town apartment building's stairwell. The man estimated to be in his late-teens or early-twenties was found sitting at the bottom of the stairwell with obvious bruising on his face and arms; thus, foul play was suspected. Castle and his partner needed to set to work identifying the victim, discovering his COD, and then hopefully apprehending the killer.

At the beginning of cases like that one, Castle liked to organize what they knew as compared to the questions he always liked to have answered. Top of that list was: Who was the victim? With no wallet or other form of identification on the body, that remained a mystery. The CSU had taken prints, but he did not hold out hope for the young man to be in the system, which meant his ID would most likely come Castle's favorite on-the-job aspect: good, old-fashioned sleuthing.

Ten minutes later just as he was finished cleaning up his notes from the crime scene review, Castle heard his partner ask softly, "Are you ready to put this murder board together?"

He lifted his head and slid his chair to the left, so he could gaze across their desks, which were butted up together. He smiled at the younger man and coyly said, "But Beckett, you're so much better at that than I am."

His eyes narrowed, though Castle knew it was in jest. "How come you're always trying to get out of hanging these?"

"All the writing and making those pictures hang straight annoys me. I'll be of much better use sitting here searching missing person reports for the face of our victim."

Beckett clicked his tongue with annoyance, but stood from his desk with a collection of photos in hand. "Fine—but you're doing the next one."

Castle grinned and leaned back in his chair saying in a sing-song way, "You're the best, Beckett."

"Yeah, yeah…"

Castle chuckled as he turned back to his computer screen and began pulling up the missing person's database. As he typed in their vic's known stats to narrow down the search, he thought fondly of the man he was now proud to call his partner, and how very far they'd come in the year since they'd joined forces to take criminals off the New York City streets.

If Castle was forced to label of his biggest flaws, he would have recognized that it was most likely his ability to be a bit too much of a showoff. This, of course, was a natural result of having an actress for a mother and growing up in the world of the theatre. The fact that he had a large heap of self-depreciating humor inside of him didn't hurt either. So, when it came to being a detective he knew he could be a bit too much of a hot-rod at times and that attitude had gotten him into trouble. In fact, one such reprimand had been the exact reason he was partnered with the newly promoted Detective Beckett.

Within just one day of their partnership, Castle was already dreading the time he spent with the green detective. With very little interaction it was obvious that Beckett was a rule-follower. He was also quiet, reserved, and seemed almost too young to be out of the academy let alone promoted to the detective rank. Just a few days after that, he realized that Beckett seemed to be annoyed by his joke cracking and unconventional methods. Seeing an opportunity, Castle turned up the heat to "11" on his personality, hoping to force the younger detective into requesting a transfer, but that only got him reprimanded by his superiors, and told that, "Maybe you can learn something from Beckett just as much as he can learn from you."

Resigned to make their union work, he took his new partner out for a beer, and found that once Beckett was in a social setting, he was actually a pretty okay guy—still a little strange, but okay. From then on, their partnership progressed steadily, and by the six month mark, when it was announced they'd closed the highest number of cases that month than any other team, he truly believed they'd hit their stride and would be partners for a long time, even if his gut told him there was still something off about his partner.

One night shortly thereafter they went to a Mets' game together to celebrate their success. During the game Castle began teasing Beckett about the fact that baseball gloves for sale in the pro shop wouldn't fit him (they were all too large), he muttered out something about being born with a genetic condition. Naturally, Castle felt bad immediately, and profusely apologized for his teasing. Beckett quirked his lips and said, "It's okay; I know everyone thinks I'm a freak." Though he never would have thought such a word about his partner-turned-friend, Castle immediately felt terrible and made it a point to go out of his way to not only include him in their social activities, but make sure he did not feel an outcast.

In the time since, the two had truly bonded thought Castle wasn't quite sure what that bond meant. Some days, he was a little bit nervous to think about it. Most days, though, he easily described Beckett as the kid brother he never had, which he thought fit them well given their seven-year age gap (though he would freely admit to Beckett being the more mature of the two, even if he was younger).

When Castle's input into the missing person database did not seem to provide any results that looked like their vic, he grumbled and reached out for the stress ball on his desk shaped like Darth Vader's head. He squeezed it tightly in his right hand, tossed it to his left, squeezed it and repeated the process. Frustrated with the attempted ID failure, he decided to switch gears and think about what he could discern from the body alone.

The young man was sitting upright in the stairwell propped against the wall. It was possible that he had sat himself down and expired in that position, but Castle thought it was unlikely. Instead, he thought maybe the man had died elsewhere—perhaps in the hall, or maybe in a different part of the stairwell, and had been left there to be found by his killers.

As Castle thought and worked his stress ball with his fists, he rotated his body aimlessly back and forth in his chair. At one point, the stress ball slipped from his grasp and he fumbled with it before catching it just before it hit the floor. Looking up once more, he watched Beckett lean over to write the address of their crime scene building lower on the murder board. He was about to turn back to his computer, when something out of place caught his eye.

Instead of crouching or kneeling to write at the bottom of the board, Beckett had bent over at the hips, so his body was at an almost ninety-degree angle, a position that pointed his ass in the direction of Castle's face. Normally, he would have thought nothing of it. If he was in a playful mood, he might have shot a rubber band at it just for kicks, but in that moment what he noticed was a red-ish stain on the seat of Beckett's dark khaki pants.

Thinking his partner unknowingly sat in something, Castle began, "Hey, Beckett, I thi…" but the word died on his lips as he second guessed his deduction. If Beckett had sat on something, the dirt would surely have been more solidly in the "cheek" area of his pants, or perhaps even further out towards his hip. This stain, however, seemed to run the length of the pant's center seam; how odd.

"Did you say something Castle?"

The elder detective didn't hear his partner's question or even take much note of the fact that he no longer stood with his ass facing him; he was too busy searching the depths of his memory, for the seam-stain rang a bell. His brow furrowed and his eyes darted back and forth until he— _Shit!_ The memory hit him as unpleasant then as it had been originally, but it was the same—he knew it was.

He had been around eleven years old and waiting impatiently in the entry way of his apartment for his mother to be ready to leave for the theatre. Over his shoulder was a backpack full of comics, a blank notebook, and a pen—all things to entertain him through Saturday's matinee and evening performances. He tried to argue with his mother that he was old enough to stay home alone, but she was hearing none of it. Considering the week prior he'd nearly flooded the bathroom while doing an experiment with the bathtub, he supposed that was fair.

As was typical, his mother was running late, so she hurried around the entryway trying to collect her coat and bag, when the strap broke on the latter spilling its contents on to the floor. As they both crawled around the hardwood trying to clean up, Castle saw a red stain on the center seam of his mother's lime green pants and said, "I think you sat on your lipstick again, Mother." What followed was an in-depth and mortifying conversation about women, menstruation, and the things he needed to know when for when he had a girlfriend or wife.

"Castle? Hey, Castle! Hey—did you have a stroke or something?"

Jolting back to the present, Castle blinked his eyes quickly and saw that his partner was now bent over facing him so that their heads were at an even level. He snapped his fingers in front of Castle's face and tilted his head to the side with obvious concern.

"I…" Castle croaked, but he still could not form a coherent thought; his brain was spinning. Could it possibly…? No—no! that was absurd! But what else could explain…

He blinked again, that time locking gazes with his partner. He took in Beckett's honey-brown eyes, the wisp of curl to his eyelashes, and that small mole he had just below the left one. He moved his gaze down across the sharp cheek bones to the soft pink lips that crested in a delicate Cupid's bow. He looked at the features not the face for the first time and could come to only one conclusion.

"Shit—shit!" He could not have scrambled out of his chair faster if he'd been electrocuted.

Clearly startled, Beckett jumped back and began, "What-" but no more words came out of his mouth before Castle shot his hand forward, grabbed his wrist, and began dragging him away from their shared desks.

He had to think quickly—very quickly. Beckett was a she, not a he, and considering that the minimum sentence for impersonating a police officer was several _years_ jail time, she teetered on the edge of very drastic consequences for her actions. He took deep calming breaths, trying not to outwardly show panic, though considering he was forcibly dragging his protesting partner across the room, they did get a few strange looks.

"What are you—Castle—Jesus. Have you lost your mind?!" Beckett demanded as Castle spun them around the corner towards a dead-end hall leading towards a supply closet, a dingy conference room, and the emergency stairwell. He reached out, held her by the biceps and said, "There's blood."

Beckett's brow wrinkled, and she leaned away, "'There's blood?' Is that some sort of weird code or-"

"You have blood on the seat of your pants," he said quietly. A moment later he watched as her face went ashen, and then he gripped her biceps a bit more firmly. "No—don't react. Stay calm. Act like everything is fine." When she only looked sicklier, he continued firmly. "This is what we're going to do. We're going to walk to the elevator, we're going to go down to the basement, and we're going to walk into the locker room like nothing is wrong—like we're just two weird partners who like to piss together, or something. I'm going to walk directly behind you as we go. Okay?" He let a beat go by, but of course she didn't answer. He moved to step away, then turned back and added, "Try not to look petrified."

Acting on his plan, he tugged on Beckett's left arm until her legs began to work once more. He followed tightly behind her as they walked to the elevator. Once inside, he pressed the appropriate button to take them to the basement. At the last moment, one of the patrol officers stepped on to the elevator and Beckett noticeably backed herself into the corner of the car; he stood beside her just as causal as ever. Once in the basement, he walked them to the men's locker room, which at that hour was mostly vacant.

Just as they reached the door he said softly, "Hey, you gonna be okay?"

She looked up, gave the smallest of nods, and then pushed open the door to the locker room wearing an expression that indicated she was anything but "okay."

Alone in the hall, Castle leaned against the wall, tilted his head back, and shut his eyes; he felt as though his brain was melting. Nothing made sense…

…or did it?

He opened his eyes as his brain raced with different memories of moments: teasing Beckett for always seeming to move to the opposite side of the gym whenever he and some fellow officers would work out before their shifts, Beckett's purposeful avoidance of the group shower after said workouts, and the way Beckett seemed to protect the white undershirt she always wore like it was critical to her survival. Beckett was slight with narrow shoulders and small hands and wrists plus the fact that he had never once seen even the smallest of hairs on Beckett's face.

For nearly the duration of their partnership Castle had always felt Beckett held a secret he refused to share. Even after he learned about Beckett's mother's murder, an incident that loosened Beckett notably, he still felt something was amiss. On top of all that, there was the way Beckett smiled, with teeth showing and those little creases that mimicked dimples. That smile was as rare as could be, but it could light up a room—and make his heart flutter unsettlingly.

All along Castle had chalked most of these anomalies up to the "medical condition" that Beckett claimed to have, but the more he thought about it, Castle realized that the only "condition" Beckett had was an X chromosome not a Y one. The simple fact that she was a woman explained every single thing he found odd or unexplainable. It was the piece of the puzzle that made everything else make sense.

Realizing that she would probably be more than just a minute or two, Castle returned to the homicide floor. Too full of anxious energy to sit, he took his partner's place at the murder board. He hung up the photos and tried to write out their labels as neatly as he could. He then sat back down and glanced at his watch. Ten minutes had passed, and she had not yet returned. He then began to wonder if perhaps she could not remedy her situation and needed to instead go home. Were that the case, he would certainly cover for her.

Turning his head towards his desk, Castle thought not of his list of victim questions, but of the ones now populating in his head with regards to his partner. Did anyone else in the department know she was a woman? Most likely not since she remained employed there. How long had she been masquerading as a different gender? Why the hell had she chosen to do so? And what was her real name? Surely it wasn't James.

As the number of questions he had creeped towards the triple digits, Castle noticed his partner returning from the elevators waking in very clipped, short steps. She walked to her chair and sat down rather stiffly. She looked so awkward, he almost asked if she was okay, but then thought it was best to just ignore the situation entirely so as not to upset her further.

Clearing his throat, he said, "I, ah, finished the board."

"Thanks."

"If you want, I can-"

"Oh look." She interrupted, her gaze directed at her screen. "The lobby security footage just came though I'm going to review it."

He nodded. "If that's what you want."

She gazed at him from over top of her computer monitor and said pointedly, "I think that would be best."

Realizing she was signaling the end of their conversation he nodded and said, "Works for me; I'll keep working on the ID." Then, he turned back to his work, but he very much doubted he would be able to focus on their vic, when his mind was still full of thoughts of his partner.

* * *

"I thought you didn't like dealing with the murder board."

Castle placed the second to last photo from their latest closed case into the box he was filling then turned to give his partner a little shrug. "Deconstructing is fine; it's the creating I don't like."

Beckett rolled her eyes. "Uh huh."

After placing the last photo into the box, Castle moved it to the top of his desk where it could be combined with the other evidence that would be put away. Returning to the board, he picked up the eraser and began to scrub away all the writing, so it would be nice and clean for the next case that would drop into their lap, whenever that was. With that done, he returned to his desk and looked over at his partner saying, "Good job on this one, by the way. That was a good instinct to go after the friend; I was still stuck on the drug angle."

Beckett shrugged. "Yeah well I thought that friend had a strange look in his eye, so I ran with it."

"It paid off." Silence hung in the air for a moment before Castle felt his stomach lurch. He'd been trying to work up the courage to ask for several hours, and the time had come to bite the bullet. Stepping over to the side of her desk so he could speak in a low tone he tried to remain casual so as not to scare her off.

"So I was thinking…how about we celebrate tonight."

She lifted her head, brow arched. "Celebrate?"

"Yeah, another case closed with a full confession on the books."

"You mean…we did our jobs."

He clicked his tongue with annoyance. "Don't downplay it, Beckett. We closed a case; another killer is off the streets. And I'm not talking about throwing a big shindig here—I'm just saying come over for some awesome food and drinks."

She looked away and said, "It's not that big of a deal."

"Okay, fine: pizza and beer. C'mon—it's been a long week. Don't you just want to unwind?" He tried to make his voice sound as enticing as possible and when he saw her teeth clamp down on her bottom lip, he knew he was very close to winning her over. "C'mon—we can even rent a movie; make a whole evening of it. I'm sure Alexis will even join in," he said, referencing his teenage daughter.

With this, Beckett looked at him incredulously. "I'm sure your daughter does not want to join her dad and his partner for dinner and a movie."

"I…" He was about to make a joke about her comment making their evening sound more like a date, but then thought better of it. "You never know; Alexis can be very food-motivated—just like her father. C'mon."

Tilting her head to the side, Beckett sighed. "I sense that you're not going to let me say no."

"Probably not."

"Fine. Pizza and beer—but no movie!"

He grinned and rocked back on his heels. "I'll take that. Now let's finish up these reports so we can get to the celebration."

She rolled her eyes and commented, "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

He nodded, always happy when she was teasing him. "I've been told that once or twice before." He continued to grin at her, hoping to continue their banter, but she merely shook her head and turned back to her computer screen. He sat down and did the same, more determined than ever to work speedily so that they could both get out of there at a decent hour.

* * *

"Alexis! Dinner's here!" Castle called as he walked into the apartment while carrying their dinner. Beckett was just behind him, shrugging off her coat and hanging it up. He glanced back to see if she needed something, but she didn't appear to. She had, after all, eaten dinner at his apartment several times—and that was back when they were just partners; before he knew who she really was. Now that he knew they were…well, he wasn't entirely sure, but hoped to have a better idea by the time the evening was over.

"Hey Beckett." Alexis greeted their guest as she strolled down the hall from the bedrooms, her red-orange braid swinging out behind her.

"Hi Alexis; how was school?"

The girl shrugged as she made her way to the table. "Boring, as usual. I can't wait until all my advanced classes start in the spring."

Chuckling, Beckett said, "I'm sure."

Castle winked as he deposited three dinner plates onto the table. "I don't know where she gets it from."

"Clearly not you," Beckett teased.

"That's what I'm saying!" Castle loved his daughter dearly and would have felt the same about her if she was at the top of the class or the bottom, but somehow for her being at the top of the class didn't seem to be quite good enough; she set her sights even higher. For Castle, this was baffling. He'd always thought of himself as a reasonably intelligent person, but traditional education had never been his forte—particularly not in his teen years. Ture, he had been too busy trying to be the class clown to focus, and he was sure he would have done better had he actually applied himself. Then…well, he wasn't sure what path his life would be on, but he didn't think that being a very good NYPD detective was the worst way to live, so he had no plans to change that any time soon.

"So what's for… ugh. Pepperoni pizza and mozzarella sticks?" Alexis grimaced when she looked into the boxes lined up on the kitchen table. Her teenage attitude clearly seeping in, she asked, "You didn't get any salad?"

Castle shrugged; he hadn't even thought about it when they placed their order, thinking his child, who was anything but a picky eater, would eat whatever he chose. "No, but you love cheesy sticks, right?"

Alexis grumbled and took one slice of pizza from the box and slid it onto her plate. "Do we even have any fruit?"

"Uh…yeah I think there are still oranges in the fridge."

As Alexis walked off, Castle pulled out two slices of pizza for himself plus a pair of mozzarella sticks, then he handed off the boxes to Beckett, so she could do the same. When Alexis returned to the table, she slapped the orange on the plate beside the pizza then picked it up and began to walk away from the table until her father said, "Whoa—wait. You're not eating with us?"

"No; I promised Paige and Hannah I would Skype with them to see all the new clothes that Hannah got for her birthday."

"And that's all you're eating?"

"Dad, this is plenty." With that, she spun around and headed back towards her room.

Shaking his head with slight disbelief, Castle turned to his companion and sighed, "She turns fifteen and I lose control." True, Alexis has been fifteen for barely two weeks, so he might have been being a bit dramatic, but it certainly felt as though she was quickly slipping into her teenaged angst years.

Beckett chuckled as she sat down at the table. "Teenage girls...gotta love it…"

Castle stared at her for a moment unsure of what to say. His original plan had not been to bring up any serious topics until after they'd eaten dinner, but she had quite literally left the door wide open for him with such a comment and there was no way he could resist. He pulled out his chair, sat beside her and said, "Guess you'd know all about that wouldn't you."

Beckett, who had taken a bite of her pizza a moment before, stopped chewing and began to look very pale, so he quickly backtracked.

"I'm sorry—you know I had to bring it up; it's been four days!" he said in reference to the incident that had revealed her true identity to him. Other than when he ushered her to the locker room, they had only spoken about the incident once. Later that same day, he had insisted on walking her out, trying to get her to open up, but from the miserable expression on her face he knew she wouldn't, so he'd only asked her to acknowledge that she knew he would keep her secret and she had. Since then, they had both ignored what had happened, though it ate away at Castle every time he looked at her; he just had to know the full story!

"Well, I don't really have anything to say about that."

Castle nearly choked. "Are you kidding me? There are ten million things to say about it. C'mon—you know you can trust me. You know I won't say anything to anyone. Just…tell me."

She looked at him, quite serious. "If anyone found out you knew…"

"But I already know. How does knowing your real name put me more in danger?" he countered.

She took another bite of pizza but said nothing more on that subject. Instead, she looked around the table expectantly, and then back at him saying, "Beer's in the fridge, right?"

Castle was somewhat caught off-guard when he realized he forgot their drinks. "Oh, I'm sorry, I-"

"I got it." She walked to the refrigerator and then returned with two glass bottles, one of which she placed in front of him. She twisted the cap off hers, took a sip, then put it down beside her plate. She picked up a mozzarella stick and just before she took a bite she said, "My name is Kate."

Castle was surprised the skin on his cheeks did not break open from how quickly the grin jumped across his face. Kate; her name was Kate! He fought the urge to react positively to the name with every part of himself, but he somehow knew it was best not to enthusiastically address it—at least, not until after they'd eaten.

They finished their meal with very little talking between them. When Kate got up to carry her plate and empty beer bottle to the kitchen, he followed slowly, hovering at the edge of the counter just watching her. She put her bottle in the small recycling bin under the sink and then put her plate directly into the dishwasher. She then reached out for a paper towel, presumably to wipe some remaining grease off her hands, and that was when he said softly, "Hey Kate?" He had intended to follow that statement up with an offer for another drink, but much to his surprise, she moved curled herself against the counter and hunched her shoulders.

Curious as to what was happening, he walked closer and heard her sniffle. Realizing she had started to cry, he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder saying, "Hey; it's okay. It's okay, Kate," but this only made her cry harder, so he pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. For a moment, he wasn't sure she would reciprocate the hug, but after several seconds her arms slid around his waist and she ducked her head beneath his chin. Instinctively, he pulled her even closer and— _Oh_.

There it was; a perfect hug. Up to that point in their relationship, their physical contact was limited to back-slaps and handshakes. But this… this changed everything. She fit so perfectly against him, from the way she tucked herself beneath his chin to the way his arms seemed to lock perfectly around his shoulders. When he skimmed her back and felt the softness of her flesh and the subtle curve at her waist, he cursed himself for not realizing sooner who she truly was. Now that he knew, it just seemed so obvious!

She cried against him for a minute before sniffling out, "I wanted to be a cop. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to solve my mother's murder. I—I never thought it would go this far, or that I would be so…"

When she didn't finish her thought, he slid back from their embrace, and gazed down at her asking, "What?"

She shook her head and stepped back, using the paper towel she clutched as a makeshift tissue. "I love what we do. It feels...it feels like this is what I should be doing. I feel like I do a good job-"

"You do an amazing job! Far better than me," he told her earnestly.

She gave him a fractured smile and then shook her head once more. "But it's so hard because some days…" She looked down at herself and tugged at her navy-blue button-down shirt. "These clothes feel like a prison cell I'll never escape."

At the harsh description, his brow wrinkled, and he asked, "But why?"

"Because I can't be me! I can't laugh or speak without lowering my voice. I have to think about how I walk and move. I can't react off the cuff. I have to think about everything I say and do. I don't get to have friends."

"What are you talking about? I'm your friend. Ryan and Espo are your friends."

She refuted his claim with a solemn expression. "You're acquaintances. We hang out, watch baseball, but we can never talk or-"

"Okay so you and I. Right now. We're friends." The decision was easy. In fact, it had already been made days earlier when he promised to keep her secret. They were friends and she didn't need to hide anything from him as far as he was concerned.

As Castle continued to stare at her, tears steadily dripping down her face, he realized she did not seem to believe him, and that made his heart feel heavy. In that moment, everything seemed so wrong. Women barred from certain careers and positions because of archaic rules. Yet she, a woman, was better than half the detectives in their precinct. Gender should not determine worth, but sadly, that was a part of society he had absolutely no control over. Despite the opportunities afforded to him as a man, he sympathized with her.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry the world is like this for you. I was raised by a single mother and I get it. Or rather I don't get it. Women are just as capable as men—more so in some cases. You're all smart and strong while being graceful and beautiful, which is certainly a feat men can't pull off. You should be able to do anything you want. Guess the world just hasn't come around to that yet. If you ask me it's because all the men in charge are afraid that you women will rise up, take over and rule everything."

Despite her tears, she let out a breathy laugh. "I don't know about that…"

He stepped up to her and gave her a small smile saying, "I am sorry, though; especially if all this makes you feel like you're trapped."

She quirked her lips to the side and said, "It's not your fault, Castle, but I do appreciate everything you said." She then mopped her cheeks once more, tossed her used paper towel in to the trash, and said, "I guess I should get going."

"You sure? That offer to watch a movie still stands. It'll be like…our first official friend hangout session." He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she smiled, but said nothing, so he sweetened the deal with a sing-song, "I'll let you pick the movie."

"Okay."

He fought the urge to punch the air with glee. Instead, he shooed her towards the sitting area and told her to search for their movie. Then, he quickly put the leftovers into the refrigerator and joined her on the couch. She was sitting on the seat with her feet flat on the floor looking rather stiff so he said in a light tone, "You don't have to sit like a robot, you know?"

She shot him a side-eye and said, "What if this is how I sit?"

"Is it?" he retorted. She said nothing but continued to scroll through the list of movies available for rent. He watched her for another moment before asking softly, "How long?"

"What?"

"How long has it been since you've lived as Kate?"

"Oh." She looked a bit nervous for a moment and then said, "The day after I graduated college, just before I entered the academy so… almost five-and-a-half years."

His heart clenched as he thought about her living over five years in a life she described as part prison-sentence. Even though he understood why she needed to do so, it still made him very sad. He made a promise to himself to make her life as good as he could now that she could be free around him. She had already stopped lowering her voice (something he might not have noticed if she hadn't pointed it out, but since she had, it was all he could hear), and maybe, just maybe, he could entice her into even more.

"Those would be five-and-a-half years without too much intimacy, I imagine."

She said nothing, but turned back to the TV and said, "I think we should watch this one."

He glanced at the screen to see that she had chosen not an action or comedy, but a movie that looked like a period piece from the look of the actor's costumes in the poster pictured. Normally, it would not have been something he would have selected, but he stuck by his offer to let her choose what they watched and said, "Okay. If that's what you want."

He kicked off his shoes and propped his heels up on the coffee table while she started the movie and put the remote down on the couch beside them. As the beginning credits ran, he watched from the corner of his eye and she slipped off her shoes as well and then brought her legs up to tuck underneath her. She then reached out for a pillow to hug to her chest, which gave him an idea.

"You want to cuddle a bit while we watch?"

She looked at him as though he'd suggested watching the movie while doing headstands. "Wha…no."

"Yeah, come on. No strings attached cuddle for the woman who's lived as a man for five years."

He was surprised to see when she gazed over at him, she seemed to be considering his offer. "But Alexis…"

"Is Skyping and giggling over animal prints, I'm sure."

Her brow wrinkled. "Animal prints aren't in style…"

He scoffed. "Tell that to my mother. C'mon." He tapped his hand against the spot on the couch beside him. She stared down at his hand for about twenty seconds before sliding over so that her body was up against his. He dropped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in until she snuggled in with her head against his shoulder. It took her another thirty seconds, but when she fully relaxed, so did he, though he had absolutely no plans to pay attention to the movie.

* * *

"Oh my god, Dad! What—what—"

"Mm Alexis? What time is it?" Castle grumbled as he opened his eyes and focused on the room in front of him. When he saw the television displayed with cable menu, he realized he must have fallen asleep, so he casually glanced to his right where his daughter stood. It took him several seconds of staring at Alexis's ashen face to realize something was amiss, but what was—

 _Oh_.

Only when she moved did Castle become aware of the fact that he was not on the couch alone, but with Beckett. She was also asleep, with her body curled around his. Except she still very much looked like a man. _Shit_!

His heart rate soaring, Castle began to stammer, "I, um, ah, this isn't—I mean, I can totally-"

"It's fine." Alexis's tone was clipped as she walked back towards the kitchen. As Beckett seemed to be panicking as well, she moved away, which enabled him to hop up off the couch and follow his daughter into the other room in hopes of doing some damage control.

"Alexis."

"No, really, it's okay. I just…I didn't realize that you—that you…"

Seeing his daughter struggling to process made Castle feel even worse about the shock she had encountered, but at that point he could not change that; he needed to very quickly come up with a plan to move forward. Keeping his partner's true identity safe had to be the priority. As much as he loathed lying to his daughter and avoided it at all cost, Beckett's secret identity was a life-or-death matter. If she were to be found out and sent to prison, she could easily be killed by her cellmates once they inevitably realized she was a cop. He needed to maintain the ruse that Beckett was a man, even if that meant implying to his daughter that he was bisexual.

"Well, um, yeah. I guess. I mean, you know Alexis there's nothing wrong with who you find yourself attracted to or what happens when two consenting adults feel-"

"Wait," Beckett jumped in, presumably realizing what he was in the process of revealing, but he looked at her over his shoulder and gave a reassuring smile.

"It's okay, Beckett. I-"

"I'm a woman!" The words exploded out of her mouth so quickly that Castle flinched. He turned his body as she joined them in the hall by the kitchen and observed her wide-eyes and rapidly raising-and-falling chest.

Alexis made a small croaking noise before her brow narrowed and she asked softly, "What?"

Beckett squeezed her eyes shut tightly, then opened them as a tear fell from the corner of the left. "I pretend to be a man, so I can be a cop."

"Isn't that illegal?"

Jumping into the conversation, Castle said imploringly, "You can't tell anyone Alexis. Not your friends. Not Gram. No one."

Alexis looked from him to Kate, who was appeared slightly nauseous. "Yes, please—please don't say anything. I—I could be arrested for what I've done. I know it's a lot to ask but-"

"It's okay." Alexis stepped forward and placed her hand on the crying woman's arm. "I won't tell anyone; I promise Beck—oh… should I continue to call you Beckett?"

A light laugh escaped her lips and she brushed some tears away with her fingertips. "Beckett's fine, but my name is Kate."

"Okay."

"Sorry you had to find out like this, Alexis," her father murmured.

She gave a little shake of her head. "It's okay; no harm done. How long have you two been a couple anyway?"

Castle's eyes flared wide. "Oh-"

"No, we're-"

"We're not," he concluded. "I was…we were just…watching a movie…"

Alexis eyed them skeptically but didn't press the issue any further. "Okay, um, well…goodnight, I guess."

They each bid the young girl goodnight and then once she had disappeared into her room, Castle turned to his partner, quirked his lips and said, "Well, tonight was fun."

She covered her face and groaned, "I'm so sorry."

He walked up and placed a hand on each of her shoulders saying, "There's absolutely nothing to be sorry for, Beckett. In fact, it's a good thing. It's all out in the open now and there's no reason for you to every worry about being who you are when you're in this apartment."

She gazed up, a bit uncertain, but the longer her smiled at her, she seemed to relax. With a small nod she stepped back and said, "Well I should get going. Thanks for the pizza…and the movie."

"Of course. We should do this again sometime."

"We don't have to."

"But how else will we be friends?"

She gazed up at him from beneath her brow with just the hint of a smile of her face and Castle felt himself almost startled by the way his heart fluttered. Though subconsciously he may have had some uncategorizable feelings for her before, in that moment he was certain that they had a romantic future together. Not then—not in that exact moment. They needed time for the shock of her true identity to wear off, for her to open up and be more comfortable around them, and for them to get to know each other as their real selves. But then…oh yes, then… he was sure of it.

"I guess we'll have to see. Good night, Castle." She grabbed her coat from where it hung and gave him a small wave to which he said, "See you Monday, Beckett." Then, smile on his face, he returned to the living room to turn off the TV, and smile pleasantly at the spot on the couch where they had curled up together for the first time.

* * *

 **A/N** : First, since i forgot to acknowledge it before, I'd like to acknowledge it now - this is my 100th story posted on . So along with thanking you for reading this chapter, i'd like to thank you in general for all the reviews & follows that got me to this point. I really cannot begin to express how much i appreciate them.

As for this story, as indicated above it will be in 2 parts. There is definitely a "Story C" written... we might end up with a Story D too...we'll see :)


	5. Story B - 2

**Story B - Part 2 of 2**

After securing the newly cuffed perp into the back of a patrol officer's car so that he could be delivered to central booking, Richard Castle walked several steps away from the car, shut his eyes and took in a deep breath. Though his pulse had dropped back down to its normal rate and his fingers had stopped trembling, he still felt his stomach swirl with nausea now and then. Nearly half an hour had passed, but he was certain that feeling would not soon go away—especially not with the horror he'd experienced.

A little more than an hour earlier he and Beckett had been trying to serve an arrest warrant for a gentleman they believed responsible not for murder, but improper disposal of a body after his elder brother had committed said murder. When they arrived at the suspect's apartment, they unexpectedly found both wanted men, who quickly sprinted down a fire escape and drove off in a waiting vehicle. A chase ensued until the suspect's car popped a tire and they were forced to try to escape on foot.

The foot pursuit began in the parking lot of an abandoned mechanic's garage with Castle going after the younger brother, and Beckett going after the older. Fortunately for Castle, the younger brother was overweight and out of shape and he quickly collapsed on the ground, surrendering to the arrest. The elder brother, however, ran inside the garage and Kate chased after him. Castle was still cuffing the younger brother when Ryan and Esposito answered their call for backup. At Castle's direction, they too raced into the garage, but shortly thereafter things began to unravel.

Somehow, inside the maze of auto parts and other debris inside of the garage, the murderous man had doubled-back on Beckett and was able to take her hostage with a knife to her throat. Evidently thinking that would enable him to escape, the perp tried to walk out with his hostage, but that was the moment Ryan and Esposito stormed the building, so he chose another means of escape: the stairs to the roof. Castle was alerted to this only because he heard shouting and commotion, though he could not tell from where until he looked up. There, he saw the two detectives with their guns drawn, and his partner at the mercy of a crazed man.

Castle soon found himself in a full panic, for not only was the situation horrifying, but there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Per protocol, he had to stay with the man he had just arrested. The only thing that kept him from breaking down completely was that the two other cops he trusted most in the world were with Beckett, and he knew they would do whatever it took to save her.

From his position in the parking lot, Castle could not hear any specifics of what was being said, but he could see reasonably well. He watched as the perp grew more panicked when Ryan tried to flank him. The detectives tried to diffuse the situation, but evidently the man had made up his mind that he'd had enough, because he began to back his way towards the edge of the roof. Both detectives shouted at him to stand down, but in a shocking and unexpected move, he stepped backwards off the roof and disappeared out of sight.

While both men on the roof screamed and rushed forward, Castle fell to his knees on the pavement. While fighting the urge to vomit, he thought through the situation as logically as he could. The garage roof was probably twenty-or-so feet off the ground. A twenty-foot fall was certainly not ideal, but also survivable, especially if the perp hit the ground first and partially broke her fall. She would be injured, with broken bones almost a guarantee, but that was okay. As long as she survived, whatever injuries she had would be fine. He would take care of her. He would be there for her. He would make sure that…

"Beckett! God, Beckett!"

When screams of Ryan and Esposito hit Castle's ear his positive resolve began to crumble. What if she had hit her head? What if during the fall the perp's knife had punctured her throat. What if she _didn't_ survive? God, he wasn't sure he could stand it. She was so young, and had so much life left to live. Yes, her situation was complicated; there was no doubt about that, but in the month since finding out her true identity, he really felt that they'd made great progress. She was smiling more and laughing. She relaxed freely inside his apartment and had even once showed up wearing pieces from her feminine wardrobe. This couldn't be the end—it just couldn't be.

Thankfully, barely a minute later more backup arrived, and Castle was able to hand his arrested perp over to two patrol officers and then sprint to the other side of the garage to discover what Ryan and Esposito already knew: Beckett and the perp had landed in a dumpster full of boxes and trash from surrounding businesses, so other than being a bit bruised and dirty, she was fine. She had even managed to disarm and cuff their murderer-turned-hostage-taker in the process.

Now that the criminal was secure in the squad car, Castle was able to walk over to where Beckett was being examined by EMTs. Though she insisted she was fine, the boys had twisted her arm into being examined, and thus the two of them had not yet had the opportunity to speak. The most she had done was offer him a smile as she climbed out of the dumpster with the restrained murderer.

"Shit …I still cannot believe that happened. I thought we lost you on that one, man," Castle heard Esposito comment as he approached the back of the ambulance.

Beckett shrugged and said, "Well, it wasn't how I saw my day going for sure."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ryan asked with notable concern.

She nodded and stepped down out of the ambulance. "I'm fine, guys; I just really need a shower. And to, ah, change my pants." She chuckled as she stuck out her leg and Castle noticed for the first time that her black dress pants were torn in the back going from the back of her knee halfway up to her butt. "I'm going to run home and I'll meet you back at the Twelfth to help with the paperwork."

"Sure thing. Glad you're okay, Beckett." Esposito held out his fist and she pounded hers against it. Ryan clapped his hand on Beckett's shoulder, and then the two partners went to their car. It was at that point that castle stepped up and cleared his throat.

"C'mon, I'll take you home."

She glanced at him with uncertainty. "Oh, you don't have to. I can just-"

"Beckett," he began in a tone that indicated the point was not up for debate, "I'm taking you home." She dropped her chin and followed him to their car without protest.

Though their drive was almost twenty minutes long, neither spoke very much during it. While he had never been inside, Castle knew where Beckett lived because he had picked her up several times when they were on their way to a crime scene. In the past, she would always nervously explain away her need to meet him on the street by saying that her father was an alcoholic. Now that he knew the truth, he imagined a secondary reason was because the home had pictures of her with her family—her as a woman, not a man.

He found parking half a block away from her building, and when he eased the car to a stop she began, "Oh you don't have…" but when he gave her a look, she did not finish her thought. Instead, she climbed out of the car and led the way into the building and to the elevator. As the car ascended, she turned her ankle out and gazed at the back of her pants before giving a guilty shrug and saying, "Guess there's no salvaging these, huh?"

"Probably not," he returned. "But on the bright side you don't have to worry about washing that curry smell out of them."

"Actually, I think that might be on my shirt," she said with notable frustration. When the elevator arrived on the correct floor, she walked to her apartment door, unlocked it, and stepped inside saying, "Thanks for the ride. I don't think I'll be too…what are you doing?" she asked presumably when he stepped inside the apartment behind her.

Castle said nothing as he shut the door behind them, leaned back against it, and slid his hands into his pants pockets. He stared at her for fifteen seconds before sighing out, "You almost died today."

She turned her eyes towards the ground and said. "I—I know. Because of how he was holding me, I couldn't see behind us and…I'd had myself braced for the impact, and when we hit that trash I was almost too stunned to react. I'd been sure I would break my arm, my leg…possibly more."

He pushed himself away from the door, stepped up in front of her, and skimmed his right hand beneath her jaw so he could use it as leverage to tilt her face up. Brushing his thumb across her cheek he said, "I was so afraid I lost you. I was so afraid that we'd…never…"

"Never what?" she asked and from her tone he could tell she was genuinely curious. It made his heart soar, because she was never cuter to him when she was innocent to something, particularly when it provided him the opportunity to enlighten him.

Though Castle was quite certain they would have a future together after just one brief cuddle together, he had not been in a hurry. He knew cultivating their relationship would take patience on his part due to the fact that she had lived as a man, and thus away from relationships, for so very long. While they grew closer each day, he had already decided to go with his gut, and not map out a time frame or an agenda. His gut would tell him the right moment, and he knew it was that one. True, it had arrived a bit sooner than he anticipated, but with the drama that had happened that day, he simply could not wait.

Continuing to brush his thumb against her cheek, he gave a guilty little smile and shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly. Then, he placed his left hand at her waist, pulled her body into his, and intensified his gaze.

Beckett's mouth formed an O-shape and he cheeks immediately began to turn pink. "I, ah, um…I mean, a-are you sure, b-because, I wasn't…I…"

"Where's the bathroom?" he said as casually as ever. She gestured a bit dumbly towards his left and he lifted his head to see a hallway that presumably led back to bedrooms and a bathroom. He moved his left hand from her hip to take her hand and began leading the way back through the unfamiliar space, figuring he'd be able to recognize the bathroom when he came across it.

"Is your father here?"

"N-no; he's working."

"Good."

When he spotted a room with tile floor up ahead, he sped his pace. Three steps later, he pulled Kate into a bathroom that was very small and cramped, but his first glance at the shower stall told him it would be big enough for both of them, so his plans did not need amended. Turning around, he read an expression of uncertainty on her face, but she didn't seem afraid, so he me really reached out and began to loosen her tie and unbutton her shirt. When he had it halfway undone, it should have revealed a bra, but instead he saw bandages fashioned around her torso that almost looked like a tube top a mummy might wear. To this he commented, "That's interesting."

"Wha—oh. Sorry." Appearing slightly flustered, she pulled off the tie, dropped it on to the ground, and then untucked her shirt from her pants and continued to tug at the buttons. "I use this to flatten my breasts. Sorry it'll—it'll take me a minute to get it off."

"Okay."

As she worked at the bindings, he turned around, cranked on the shower water, and then began to unbutton his own shirt. When he turned back around, he was able to watch her unravel the last of the bindings. She balled the cloth up and dropped it to the floor as well, for the first time revealing to him her petite breasts, which were painted with creases and marks from the compression bandage. He didn't mind this though; they were still beautiful to him.

As he shed his shirt, she undid her belt and the button on her pants. When they fell to the floor, she was left standing in a pair of men's brief underwear, which would not have been notable in any way except for the fact that they had a small bulge in the front. Castle stared for several seconds, trying to figure out how she was able to fill out the underwear, when an idea hit him and he laughed. "Oh—oh my god, do you stuff your underwear?"

Her face flushed fully that time, and she reached beneath the underwear band to retrieve a small, flesh-toned object. "Well, I mean…I have to change in a locker room, so I figured this would help."

"What is it?"

"Just cloth filled with pillow batting; I made it myself."

"Wow," he commented, still laughing.

She clicked her tongue as she placed the fake package on the counter beside the sink. "Don't make fun…"

He reached out and tugged at her waist with his right hand, pulling her closer to him as he gazed down and said, "Not making fun. It's quite…ingenious. But also, very, very, very funny." With each "very" he lowered his chin just a little further and had just hovered his lips over hers when she pressed her hand flat against his belly and stepped back.

"Castle, if—if this is just because of what happened today, then-"

"Kate." He sighed out her name in a way that made the hairs on the back of his own neck stand up. "What about the last month would make you think this is just about today?"

She bit down on her bottom lip, gave a little shrug and said, "I was afraid that you didn't…that you wouldn't…that I-"

Knowing only one way to assuage her concern, Castle stepped forward, cradled her face with his hands, and crushed his lips against hers. She breathed in sharply and remained frozen for several seconds before her hands settled on his mid back. He hummed against her mouth, drawing her in even closer. Her fingers curled at his spin and she kissed him back, again, and again, just she dipped her chin and whimpered out his name.

"What is it?"

She gazed up with wide eyes and whispered, "Are you sure you don't still see me as a man?"

"I really, really don't," he promised before kissing her again. Truly, he did not—and hadn't since the moment he found out. Even though her clothes and haircut remained masculine, from that moment on he saw only the femininity on her face, and the gorgeous smile he knew could only belong to a beautiful woman. After a moment, Castle moved his lips to her jaw, and began kissing his way towards her neck when a peculiar smell hit his nostrils and he opened his eyes quickly, to see a streak of brown just below her hairline. "Uh, Kate? I think you have garbage on your neck."

"Ugh, what?" She groaned, twisted away from him and examined her reflection in the mirror. Then, muttering, "Disgusting dumpster," beneath her breath, she pushed her underwear over her hips and stepped into the shower without ceremony. Castle took an additional moment to remove the rest of his clothing before her joined her. By that point, she seemed to be scouring every inch of her body with a soap-covered washcloth and he was all too happy to take over washing her back before sneaking a hand around to her front and giving her soapy breasts a little squeeze.

A minute later, she hung the washcloth back in its proper place and spun around to face him. "Clean now?" he asked with a teasing smile. She nodded and then allowed her gaze to drift down the length of his body. He reaction to seeing him fully naked and aroused for the first time was to cover her face with her hands and let out a slightly embarrassed giggle. He brushed his lips against her hairline and asked, "You okay?"

"Uh huh," she responded, but he wasn't certain until she slid his arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss, which he happily reciprocated. They kissed and used their hands to explore each other's torsos for several minutes before he excitedly nudged her back against the shower wall and skimmed his hands down over her ass, so he could lift her up, but before he could she squeezed his biceps tightly and said, "Wait."

"What? Too fast?"

She gave an embarrassed nod and said, "A little. It's just…it's been six years."

Considering that was nearly the same amount of time she had been living as the opposite gender, he could not say he was shocked. "I figured." He kissed his way down the side of her face, down over her jaw, and over on to her shoulder as his right hand journeyed its way from her hip to the juncture of her legs, where he began to rub her. She let out a mew of want and curled her fingers against his shoulders.

Smiling to himself, he kissed his way back up to her lips. He lifted his head and took in her wide-eyed expression complete with flushed cheeks and parted lips. He moved his fingers against her in small circles and her mouth opened wider, her eyes drifting shut. She let out a very soft moan, and Castle decided in that moment that he had never seen anything sexier.

He placed a rough kiss against her mouth, sighed out, "You're beautiful," and then pulled her body in closer so that they could become lost in each other.

* * *

A little over an hour later, Castle strolled casually into the precinct with a whistle on his lips. He nodded hellos to his coworkers and made his way to his desk feeling lighter than ever. Hell, he was practically skipping. He didn't even think that his actions might be viewed as slightly inappropriate until Esposito asked accusatorially, "Where've you been?"

"Ah…just making sure my partner is okay."

"And is he?" Ryan asked.

Smiling a bit too wide, Castle said, "Yeah; he's great." Considering how Beckett had cried out and trembled in his arms, he even ventured to guess that "great" was an understatement.

"And…how are you doing?"

Still smiling, he replied, "I'm excellent, Ryan; thanks for asking."

Ryan and Esposito exchanged perplex looks before the former continued with, "I, um…I just mean that if I had watched Espo take a swan dive off a roof I'd be kind of shaken up about it."

Espo punched his partner in the shoulder playfully and said, "Thanks bro; back atcha."

Realizing he was in serious danger of giving them away, Castle tried his best to straighten his expression and do some damage control. "Well, yes obviously it was extremely upsetting to see Beckett fall off the roof when there was nothing I could do about it, but we… we had a nice talk on the way to his place. We're cool now."

"Uh huh," Espo said with notable suspicion. "Well, I-"

"Oh hey look," Ryan interrupted, "he's back."

Espo smiled at Beckett approaching from the elevator and said, "Oh yeah, it's badass extraordinary. What are you going to jump off next?"

"Nothing," Beckett said definitively. "I'd like to stay firmly on the ground from now on. Were you able to get those two idiots processed?"

"Yep. Reports are being filed as we speak," Ryan said.

"Thanks guys; I really appreciated it."

"No worries, Beckett. We've got your back—unlike some people."

With the jab notably directed towards him, Castle held out his arms outstretched as a silent way of asking "what gives," but Espo merely walked back to his own desk. Castle scoffed and gazed at his partner from around his monitor. "Evidently, unless I'm sitting here crying, I don't care enough about your well-being."

"Well, looking a bit less like you took a whole bottle of happy pills might help."

Her comment only fueled his grin and he quietly said, "I bet you can't imagine why I look this way."

Her gaze flicked to his briefly and she almost smiled, but then she quickly turned back to her computer screen. "Bet I can't…"

They worked in silence for the next few hours and finished out their shift without incident. Just as he was getting ready to leave, Beckett was called into their captain's office, presumably to talk about that day's incident. Instead of going, Castle hovered at his desk, pretending to check emails for ten minutes until she emerged. "Ready to go?"

She looked a bit startled, almost as though she had not realized he was still there. "Oh, um, you didn't have to wait, I'm just going to-"

"Come home with me," he said in a tone barely loud enough for her to hear him.

She glanced around them briefly and then turned back to him, speaking just as quietly. "I…I shouldn't. My father will… I mean he… I'm sorry." Defeated, she dropped her chin to her chest and mumbled, "I don't know how to do this."

Fighting the urge to reach out and take her hand, he said, "We can figure it out together." When, after a few seconds, she didn't respond, he added enticingly, "C'mon; don't you want Round Two?"

A smile burst across her face, and then she clapped her hands across her cheeks as though she was trying to forcibly straighten it. "God—I'm going to give us away."

"Nah." He brushed off her concern both because no one was paying attention to them and even if they were, they never would have been able to deduce while she smiled so broadly. "If anything, people will just think you have a crush on me—and why shouldn't you? I'm awesome."

She rolled her eyes and groaned. "You're something."

He grinned and bounced on the balls of his feet. "C'mon Ka—Beckett," his correction was quick, but it still made her eyes flare with terror.

"Careful!"

"Sorry—sorry. Let's just get out of here so we don't risk exposing anything, okay?"

She stared at him for another fifteen seconds, but then agreed with a nod and followed him towards the elevator.

* * *

"Mmm don't…don't get up…" Castle grumbled when he felt the bed shifting as his companion slid out. He had woken up half an hour earlier, but decided it was far too early to get out of bed on a Saturday. With his girlfriend still asleep, he merely snuggled closer to her, shut his eyes, and continued to doze.

"Gotta pee," was her response and he grumbled again. He flipped over onto his stomach and shoved his face down into the mattress, hoping to quickly fall back to sleep.

What felt like only a minute later, he felt a slender hand graze up and down his back and then ruffle lightly at his hair. He grunted in acknowledgement. "Alexis is up," Kate said softly as she sat back down on the mattress.

"Mm well she's old enough to make her own breakfast."

"I know. She's already in the kitchen; I'm just telling you."

He smiled and lifted his head, gazing up at her sleepily. "Well, if she's occupied, we can be too." He slid his hand up over her thigh and rubbed it against the front of her panties. "We didn't have nearly enough sex yesterday."

She let out a bark of laughter. "And what's enough?"

"One more time?" he asked hopefully. She continued to stare at him with disbelief, so he flopped his body over to his head and shoulder were in her lap. He kissed his way up her thigh and over her hip, promising, "I'll make it worth your while."

"Ah—Rick." She groaned when his fingers smoothed over her most sensitive areas, and he grinned to himself. Though only three weeks had passed since their physical relationship began, he had quickly learned how to bring her toe-curling pleasure and was all too happy to provide it at any presented opportunity. To that point, she had very few complaints.

Just as he began to tug at the waistband of her panties she said, "Wait wait—Alexis saw me; she knows we're awake in here."

He shrugged. "Alexis knows how to turn a deaf ear to what's happening in this hallway. She had to when mother stayed with us."

Kate momentarily grimaced but then her expression turned solemn as she said, "Sorry—I guess I'm still trying to figure out how to do this."

He nodded and pressed a chase kiss to her bottom lip. As they navigated complex waters, they had several conversations on the topic, and had settled on a "one day at a time" approach. At least for the time being, Kate needed to appear as a man to the outside world, which meant they would be prohibited from all pubic displays of affection. Castle agreed on that point, so long as they could spend the majority of their time together at his apartment. She had agreed to that, even upping the ante to agree to wear woman's clothing so long as they were trapped inside, which naturally he did not complain about. Still, there were bumps in the road for them every day—it was only a matter of finding their way through.

"We don't have to do this now if you're not comfortable."

She gave a small smile and said, "I…I think Alexis said she's going shopping with friends this afternoon. Why don't we just postpone?"

Looking up at her he grinned and said, "Well I won't complain about that."

"Good." She replied. Then, she slid from the bed and reached for her jeans before saying, "You know I really like our weekends together, right?"

He smiled at her. "Me too, Kate; me too."

* * *

 **A/N** Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for "Story C"


	6. Story C

**Story C - Part 1 of 1**

"Oh man…" Castle sighed when he stopped walking in front of his hotel room door. Arriving at his room meant the evening was over, and that was sad because it had been such a wonderful evening. His head was fuzzy and swam with more emotions than coherent thoughts, but his heart was full of joy and love. What else could have been better than watching his good friend and colleague marry the woman he clearly loved so deeply? Castle didn't think anything could be.

"Wedding receptions are the best, right Beckett?" Castle turned back to look at his partner, who decidedly looked less enthralled than he, but Castle didn't notice that. He merely sighed happily and leaned against the door instead of opening it. He had not even realized that his key card was out of his pocket until he felt Beckett dragging it from his fingers.

The smaller man shoved the card into the door lock and sighed, "I guess."

"What? Yeah they're—whoa!" Castle nearly fell to the ground when Beckett opened the door despite him leaning against it. He laughed and recovered by stumbling into the room and then leaning hard against the wall inside. Then, with his head lolling back with such carelessness he was nearly knocking a photo down, he threw his hands out and said, "Weddings are _the best_. Great food. Great drinks. Great celebrating."

"Cake."

"Great cake!" He added Beckett's suggestion to his list. Then, turning his head, he smiled at the man who looked stiff and uncomfortable. Beckett was probably the only man with his tie and shirt collar still prim-and-proper by the end of the night, yet Castle wasn't very surprised. Of course his partner wouldn't loosen up, even for a wedding. Though it had certainly annoyed him early on, by that point he was used to Beckett being a bit of a stick-in-the-mud in social settings; it was simply part of the younger man's charm.

Reaching out, Castle grabbed the bottom edge of Beckett's tie and flipped it carelessly. "Even you had fun tonight, didn't ya Beckett?"

"It was a very nice wedding and—oh! Careful!"

Castle brushed away Beckett's helping hands when he once again stumbled when he started to walk again. He made his way into the bathroom, not entirely sure why, and leaned heavily against the counter as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Damn his eyes were blue. Why did they always look so much bluer in hotel room mirrors?

"Are you sure you're okay? How much did you have to drink tonight?"

He turned his head and gave him a smirk. "Enough that I'm probably going to have a headache in the morning. Thanks for being my DD, by the way."

Gazing at him from the bathroom doorway, Beckett merely said, "I walked you across the parking lot."

Castle shrugged, took a step away from the counter, and then caught a glimpse of the toilet from the corner of his eye. Suddenly noticing the fullness of his bladder, he took two steps to his right, lifted up the toilet seat, and unzipped the fly on his pants. A moment later, he grumbled to himself and placed his hand against the nearby wall for support; taking a leak was always so much harder when the room was swaying.

A minute later, he emerged from the bathroom to find his partner standing with a water bottle in his outstretched hand. "Here. Should help with the headache."

"Aww Beckett." Castle cooed and reached out his hand. Instead of taking the water bottle, he pinched his partner's left cheek and said, "You're the best, Beckett; you're always the best." Then, he walked over and flopped down onto the bed without taking the water bottle. Hey, lay back with his hands folded atop his belly and let his eyes drift shut. He thought he'd been laying there for several minutes, maybe almost nearing sleep, when suddenly he was startled by a voice saying, "Hey Castle?"

His eyes popped open and he lifted his head to see Beckett standing just in front of his knees. He had totally forgotten he was there! Rubbing his hands over his belly he responded with, "Hey do you want to order food or something?"

"No. No I was just…I was just wondering if you black out when you drink." He walked over and put the water bottle on the bed just beside Castle's elbow as he spoke.

Castle looked down at the bottle, then back up at Beckett, feeling as though he had not heard the question at all. "Huh?"

"After all you've drank tonight, will you black out? Or will you remember this?"

"Nah, I don't black out." He sat up and began to attempt to open the water bottle Beckett provided, which proved surprisingly difficult. His hand slipped off twice and he cursed at it before smaller hands pulled it from his grasp and returned it cap-free. He lifted his head and felt a wave of admiration for his partner that had him once again saying, "Aww Beckett you're so nice; you're the best."

"Uh…yeah… I'm just trying to see if you'll remember this conversation."

His brow wrinkled after he took a few gulps of water. "What conversation?"

"This one. I, um, I want to tell you something. Something I've wanted to tell you for a while, but I've been afraid."

Staring at Beckett, Castle noticed his expression getting a bit paler and he felt bad. Beckett didn't have to be afraid to be honest with him; they could always be honest with each other. In fact, he was pretty sure he knew what Beckett was about to say and, honestly, had expected it for some time. "'s okay, Beckett." Castle sloppily pushed himself off the bed and walked over to the suitcase he had opened up on top of the chest of drawers by the TV. He began to take off his tie and unbutton his shirt as he turned back towards the room's only other occupant.

"I already know you have a crush on me."

Beckett looked as though he just swallowed a spider. "What?"

Castle shrugged his shoulders out of his shirt and began to pull the item off. It came off smoothly from his left arm but became caught at his right wrist. As he tried to untangle himself he said casually, "You have a crush on me, right? I've known that for a while."

"Wha—n-no. No, I don't have a crush on-"

"'s okay." He muttered then worked for a few seconds before getting himself untangled. After shoving the shirt unceremoniously into his luggage, Castle began to walk towards his friend, who looked a few shades paler—if that was possible. He felt bad for alarming Beckett, because in his mind there was no reason to be upset. Sure, it was a bit weird that they were friends and partners even though one of them had romantic feelings for the other. He didn't think that had ever happened to him before, but it was okay. He had decided that months earlier when some raucous teasing from his other coworkers made it impossible for him to ignore the fact that his probably-homosexual partner had a crush on him, despite the fact that he was decidedly straight. It had never once bothered him, even with his less-than-kind coworkers using it to get a rise out of him.

"I don't mind, Beckett. 's actually quite flattering, but I…I'm not int'rested in you that way-"

"No, Castle-"

"I mean, you are a good-looking dude for sure. And you are _the_ best. The best partner, but…sexually…"

"Please just-"

"I mean," Castle continued, completely ignoring his partners attempted interruptions. He gazed down at his hands and moved them so that they were in fists, except that the index fingers pointed straight out. He directed his index fingers towards each other and bumped the tip of them together asking, "how would that even…"

"God, Castle, just-"

"I mean I _know_ this isn't the way that-"

"STOP!"

Beckett's elevated voice was enough to make Castle drop his hands to his sides and stare blankly at his partner. Beckett took two steps towards him before speaking again.

"I'm not coming on to you, Rick. I'm trying to tell you—no, just—just forget it."

Castle felt his stomach lurch when Beckett turned away from him. Though a minute earlier the world had seemed fuzzy, the intensity of Beckett's stare as he spoke just then had drawn Castle towards a clearer frame of mind. His gut told him the thing Beckett was about to tell him was quite serious, and he felt bad if his misassumption had derailed his partner's progress.

"Beckett, wait."

"No." He waived his hand dismissively and began to walk towards the hotel room door. "Just forget it, you should-"

"Wait." Castle finally caught up to his partner, grabbed his arm, and spun him around. As he gazed down could see a peculiar emotion in his partner's eyes; something he could not get a read on. Feeling the seriousness settle down on them once more, he tilted his head to the side and said softly, "What is it? You can tell me."

Beckett shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"I think it does. Tell me. C'mon." Feeling excitement and lightness return to his chest, Castle bounced up on his toes and asked, "Is it a secret? I'll keep your secret. C'mon Beckett just tell me. Tell me and-"

"I'm a woman!"

The words exploded from Beckett's mouth so violently that Castle flinched. His hand fell off Beckett's arm and he took a step back. Either too drunk or too shocked to process the words, nothing that made sense filtered into his brain, so he merely whispered, "What?"

Beckett's head lowered down until her chin was nearly against her chest. She brought her hands up so that her fingertips delicately touched her temples. She shook her head back and forth for several moments and when she looked back up at him, tears filled her eyes. "I'm a woman," she rasped out again. Then, after taking a ragged breath, she continued her explanation.

"I'm not a man, I'm a woman. My mother was killed, and I wanted to solve her murder so bad—so bad—that I changed everything about who I was, so I could try and solve her case. But I can't. I can't. I tried for over a year, but I can't, and that makes me feel like…" She paused to shake her head. "I know I still do good—that we still do good and I'm glad. I'm proud of what we do but nights like tonight…" She turned and gestured towards the hotel door and then looked back at him, defeated.

"I know that with the life I chose, I'll never get to have a wedding. I'll never have someone who… I have to be alone. I am alone. Most days it's okay, but tonight I just felt so, so lonely. And when I saw…when I saw you with that bridesmaid I just…" She clasped her hands together, held them in the center of her chest, and said the next words as though they were a sin, "I wanted you to dance with me."

Feeling the haze in his brain dissipating even further, Castle stared down at his partner with brand new eyes. He took in the teary honey-brown eyes, the flushed cheeks, and pink lips that trembled ever so slightly. He felt himself seeing his partner for the very first time and taking in that she— _she_ —was a caring, brave, and extraordinary person who was hurting very much, and that made him sad.

As he had always thought of himself as a friendly, outgoing person, Castle had welcomed partnerships with his colleagues ever since joining the academy. Not counting those he was paired up with for training during his rookie year, Castle had three partners before Beckett and thought of them each fondly. When his last partner quit the NYPD to move out of state with his wife, Castle had been disappointed, but also looked forward to meeting the man they described as one of the sharpest on the job.

Right from the start Castle appreciated Beckett's intelligence and insight but had to admit to him being one of the least fun to share a car with simply because Beckett didn't seem to be having any fun. He was too tense and too focused on rules and protocol. It took a few weeks of joke cracking and friendly ribbing to loosen him up, but Castle was pleased with how much progress they had made during their eighteen month long working relationship.

Despite Beckett becoming a more fun-loving person, Castle had always felt there was something between them he could not put his finger on. They were friends and partners—almost like family—but it was more than that. Castle found himself drawn to Beckett more than he had with any other partner before. They would go out for drinks after their shift and talk until the bar or restaurant closed without even realizing. They would go to Mets games together and have a good time no matter if their team won or lost. When he realized that Beckett probably had a crush on him, Castle explained away the connection as that, but never really believed it. Now, suddenly, the puzzle pieces were moving closer together, though they hadn't matched-up quite yet. The vision was getting clearer, but the edges remained hazy.

"I, um, I'm gonna go so-"

"Wait." Castle's body and mouth reacted before his brain had a chance to catch up with the situation. He reached out for Beckett's arm and used it to drag her towards him. When his mind finally caught up, he smiled softly, and moved his other hand so it could rest gently just above her hip. Then he began to step in time to an inaudible beat. Meanwhile, she remained frozen, the creases in her brow deepening.

"What are you doing?"

"You said you wanted to dance with me."

Looking quite startled, she tried to step out of his grasp, but he held her fast. "I—but there's no music!"

"So?" he responded rhetorically. Then, he slid his hand from her hip to the middle of her back so he could pull her closer. She half-fell into him, but when she righted herself, she placed her hands delicately on his shoulders. His hands met at the small of her back and he asked, "Is this what you had in mind?"

"N-not exactly."

"Do you want music?"

"No, I… hold on." She stepped out of their embrace and immediately began to shrug her shoulders out of her black blazer. The tossed it on to the end of the bed and turned back around loosening her tie. When it was un-done enough, she pulled it off up and over her head. Only then did she unbutton the top two buttons of her emerald green shirt.

Castle watched his process with amusement, finally asking, "Better?"

She gave a little embarrassed smile and said, "Sorry; I can't really lift my arms in that coat." Then, she stepped back up and slid her hands across his shoulders until she could link her fingers behind his neck. He settled his at her mid-back once more and then began to sway.

As they spun around in a slow circle, Castle drew her in just a little further. He skimmed his hands up more towards her mid-back, feeling the narrowness of her waist and wondered briefly how he had not realized her femininity before. He hadn't been looking for it, obviously, and, really, they had very little physical contact other than handshakes her back-slaps. Well, there was that one time he had to hoist her up to look through an open warehouse window, but at the time he'd been too paranoid about their murderous suspect finding them out than to really think about the feel of her body against his.

With that thought in mind, Castle slid his hands down her torso until they rested at her hip bones. He then moved his hands down and inward, feeling the flare of her hips leading to the curve of her ass. He settled his fingertips against her, pulled her in a little closer, and hummed when their hips came nearly flush together. He squeezed his fingers just a little bit and laughed inwardly at the feel of her soft flesh. "Hmm yeah—you're definitely a woman."

"Castle," she warned, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

"I'm serious." He gave her another little squeeze and concluded, "Men's asses don't feel like this."

Beckett moved her hands to his collar bone and pressed herself away from him until she could look up with a cocked eyebrow. "And just how many men's asses have you felt?"

"I…" He croaked, caught off-guard by her question. "I…I don't know. You just have a woman's ass, okay? Sorry for interrupting our dance."

Her skeptical expression melted into a smile and she said, "It's okay. I guess I should be going anyway." She stepped away from him and returned to the end of the bed to collect her things, but as he watched her pick up her blazer and drape it over his arm, Castle felt the urge to strongly rebut her decision.

"What if you didn't go?"

"What?"

Instead of answering verbally, Castle took two strides across the room, cupped his hands beneath her jaw, and pulled her lips against his.

For the life of him he wasn't sure what made him do it. Maybe it was because he was a little drunk. Maybe it was because of the fact that her crush on him really meant something now. Maybe it was because of the way it felt when he pressed their bodies together. Whatever made him do it, though, he no longer cared the moment he could feel the heat of her mouth on his. He knew then that the impromptu kiss was the best idea he'd had in weeks.

Though she did kiss him back at first, Beckett soon slid from his embrace, stared at him for a moment, then sadly shook her head saying, "You're drunk, Castle."

He refuted her accusation with, "Being delivered shocking information has quite a sobering effect, actually. Besides…" He snagged her hip and pulled her in closer. "Maybe I don't want you to be lonely tonight."

Her eyes flared wide on the last word he spoke. "Tonight?"

He brushed his nose up against hers and said gruffly, "Yeah. Tonight." The more her thought about it, the less he wanted her to leave, but he was confident in his ability to convince her.

He kissed her again and again and again until he could feel her melting more into his embrace. When her fingers curled into the hem of his t-shirt, he let out a groan and began to kiss his way across her jaw. "Mm, god, Beck…" The taste of her name on his lips suddenly felt sour, and Castle pulled back, so he could look at her. Still cradling her jaw, he said, "Beckett's not your name"

"Yes, it is."

He shook his head. "What's your real name—your woman name?"

She stared at him for twenty seconds without blinking before telling him, "Kate."

"Kate." He echoed and immediately felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Yes, that definitely felt better on his lips, particularly the sharp cut of the "t." "Okay, Kate," he continued. He dipped his chin, placed one more rough kiss on her lips, and then stepped back, instructing, "Take off your clothes."

He pulled his t-shirt up over his head and tossed it towards his luggage. He then moved his hands to his belt, but when he realized she had yet to move, he frowned and said, "What's wrong?"

Her gaze turned hesitant. "Are you going to remember this in the morning?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "Probably. Why?"

She folded her arms over her chest and said, "Maybe—maybe we should just…"

Her voice faded away when he skimmed his hands up her arms and on to the tops of her shoulders. "Do you want this, Kate?" he asked her softly. She remained unmoving for several seconds before nodding her head in affirmation. "Then," he continued with a smile, "stop thinking about tomorrow and just focus on right now."

With that, he gave her shoulders a light shove, causing her to sit down on the mattress. A moment later, he joined her, kissing her neck as he began to unbutton her shirt, promising himself that loneliness would be the furthest thing from her mind by the time they finally fell asleep that night.

* * *

The following morning, Castle awoke and immediately moaned. His mouth was dry and prickly, he felt mildly nauseous, and somehow a dozen tiny hammers had entered his skull and were trying to bang their way out. "Shit." He cursed aloud and covered his face with his hands. Had he really drank that much? He didn't think so. Then again, over-doing it on wine did this to him more and more as he got older—and he'd yet to learn how to stop at only a few glasses.

He lay there for five minutes, wallowing in his own misery, before he finally forced himself to slowly sit up. He knew that his recovery process needed to begin with a shower and copious amounts of water and coffee. Then he needed food, some pain killers, and, later, a nap, but first, he needed to make it to the toilet.

With his room thankfully still quite dim, Castle managed to shuffle his way into the bathroom and use the facilities. As his head hurt too much to contemplate how he was going to get high volumes of water and coffee in the hotel, he decided to return to bed and shut his eyes for a few more minutes; however, on his way there, he was caught off-guard by the appearance of the mattress. Both sides of the bed were disturbed, with the second set of pillows clearly indicating someone slept on them. He turned around, half-expecting to see a woman hiding in the doorway, preparing to make a "walk of shame" but there was no one there.

At a slower pace, Castle returned to bed and, despite his discomfort, thought about the night before. He skimmed his hands against the sheets and shut his eyes. Slowly, flashes of memory began to return to him. Feverous kisses and illicit moans. The feel of petite breasts in his hands and a gorgeous body beneath him. A smile…the smile of his partner…

"Beck…" Castle's eyes popped open and he could not even get his partner's full name out due to the shock.

He stared down at the mattress for several moments as though the answer would appear as text on the empty sheets, but of course it did not. Instead, he was stuck wracking his aching brain to try and remember the events of last night, hazy as they were. He definitely remembered the wedding ceremony, and walking to the hotel ballroom along with his colleagues. After that it became a blur of food, wine, dancing, wine, cake, and more wine. But then…then there was Beckett, crying in his room and telling him things that made his heart ache.

"God…" He sighed aloud as he skimmed his hands down his face. Was Beckett really a woman? Had they really made love? Had he really fallen asleep with his face buried in her hair, that somehow smelled like cherries? At that point, he truly wasn't certain, but he knew he needed to find an answer.

Mustering up all his determination, Castle pushed himself up off the mattress and began walking towards the door only to realize halfway there that he was completely nude. As that would present several problems, he quickly returned to his suitcase, and though his eyeballs felt as though they were throbbing with discomfort, he managed to pull on his dress pants and a white t-shirt before heading out into the hall.

Thankfully, Beckett's room was only two doors down from his, and he knocked on it repeatedly until the door swung open with her annoyed, "Do you know what time it is?"

"No," he replied, pushing his way in the room.

"It's barely seven a.m.! How are you even awake?"

"I don't know. What—what happened last night?" He turned around to face her and saw her step towards him cautiously. She wore a men's NYPD hoodie with jeans and her hair was clearly still mussed from sleep. Castle surprised himself by immediately recognizing her as a woman; then again, he supposed seeing her fully naked did have a way of thoroughly proving her true gender.

"Well, um, what exactly do you remember?"

"Bits and pieces—god." He groaned and began to rub his temples. "My head is killing me. Can you—can you just tell me what you remember?"

"I'm pretty sure that you slept with a woman named Kate."

He flopped down on the end of her bed and gazed up at her saying, "I'm pretty sure that I slept with you."

She dipped her gaze and scuffed her bare toe against the carpet. "I'm not sure that's what happened."

"Why not?"

She shrugged and looked back at him. "I don't know…too complicated? Besides, you're the one that said you weren't interested."

"That's when I thought you had a dick. Ugh—is it extra bright in here or something?" He moaned and covered his face with his hands again. Evidently, the sun was filtering into her room more than into his to the point where his eyes were beginning to water.

"Here, hold on." He heard her move about the room for a moment before returning to his side and saying, "I have water and aspirin."

"Thanks." He held out his hand and she put two pills in his palm. He tossed them into his mouth, then took the water bottle she held and gulped half of it down at once. Then, he gave the bottle back to her and scooted his way up her mattress until he reached the top. "I just need to lay here for a minute."

"Okay."

Castle curled on his side facing away from the room's window and shut his eyes tightly. Feeling rather cold and lonely after a minute he said softly, "Hey Kate?"

The room was silent for almost twenty seconds before he heard, "Yes?"

Smiling softly at the fact that she responded to the name he now knew to be her real one, he said, "Come lay down with me. Please."

Another few seconds went by before he felt her climb up on the bed behind him. She scooted up next to him and began to stroke one of her hands through his hair while the other gently caressed his arm. He knew with her beside him, taking care of him, he could have relaxed and succumbed to more sleep very quickly, but he wasn't quite ready for that yet, especially when the opportunity to tease her had presented itself so readily.

"Mmm so you do have a crush on me," he hummed.

She poked one of her fingers into his shoulder blade and grumbled, "Shut up."

"'s okay, Beckett," he sighed out, "I have a crush on you too."

"No, you don't."

Though it pained him, he rolled over onto his back, so he could look up at her. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he did not have feelings for her. What those feelings were—he was not entirely sure. They were new, and confusing, but he was certain about one thing: he definitely wanted a chance to get to know her—the real person she was—when he was fully sober and without an excruciating headache.

"Yeah, Kate, I really do," he promised. She looked tentatively hopeful for a moment before lowering her body down towards his. He met her halfway, lifting up his head, and brushing his lips against hers briefly. Then he lay down once more and once he felt her body curl around his, he shut his eyes and relaxed. He had no idea what their future would hold, but somehow he knew they would face it together.

* * *

 **A/N:** as always, thanks to everyone who is reading. this is all that's written for now, but there is still the possibility of Part D :)


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